


Celestial Charts

by Stefanyeah



Category: Muse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Wings, M/M, Multi, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 99,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stefanyeah/pseuds/Stefanyeah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels, Demons and a Viking. Did I mention wing!porn?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I had the urge to write an angel fic, too. But since I don‘t wanna copy those gorgeous stories around I had to give it some twists. And here we go.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Great Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Betas:** engel-sehnsucht
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I‘m sure all of us are aware that the events playing out in this piece of writing are untrue, never happened, most likely never will happen. I‘m pretty sure we all know that the other is perfectly aware of this fact. We just accept it for the sake of this story as temporary truth. Which turns the words beneath the cut into fiction.
> 
> I don‘t own Muse or other publicly recognisable characters, the plot however is mine.

The moon was crescent.

Some people said, she once had been a young woman, her outline slim and lean, her skin so pale it shone in the moonless night. But her nature was vile and she was afraid of growing old and withering away. So she had devoured her own children, believing she’d stay young and beautiful forever.

But instead, the heinous acts made her ugly, her skin losing its perfect shine and her outline growing and rising like the dough of bread and soon she was feared and despised by even the gods.

One day, when she was feasting on her youngest child, the one she had only given birth to the previous day, a god was thus disgusted, he cursed her to spend the remaining life of the world in the sky, lonely and at night so only the low and the vile would look at her abhorrent face.

Thus she hung in the night sky, mourning her loneliness and swearing to never eat someone of her own again. Her weight dwindled away and soon she was almost gone. Until she wasn‘t to be seen in the night sky and she had grown so hungry, she started gulping down the star dust around her. But it wasn‘t enough, so she started to devour the stars next to her until she was round and full and lonely again.

And she started mourning again and dwindling away until she almost died once again. Until her hunger woke anew.

So now she was crescent and mourning the loss of her companions and mourning her own vileness. A few stars around her dared to shine, still contempt in her vicinity.

But something was off, a red star shining that no-one on Earth had ever seen before. It grew and soon the silence of the night was disrupted by the shrill sound of something moving with a speed almost too elusive for the mortal eye.

The star left a red tail of fire that burnt any matter or material close by. It crashed into the ground and burrowed itself deep within the soil, the impact throwing away earth and rocks, trees and animals alike.

Within mere seconds of appearing in the night sky, only a crater of ashes and vaporised wood and flesh was left of the forest. The sand had melted into black glass and was shimmering dimly in the sparse light, directing the flimsy rays further towards the centre of the crater.

They collected and faintly illuminated the form of a man. Lying with his black wings tattered and enclosing his naked form, a red halo floating above his head and all of his eyes squeezed shut. A shudder ran through his wings and he whimpered in pain. But only for a short moment, before he remembered who he was.

_How did they fucking dare treat him like this?_

He pushed himself onto all fours, glowering against the sky and scanning it for any signs of stars that weren‘t supposed to be in this particular sky. A faint light twinkled and a knowing smirk played on his lips. He straightened and waited for his arrival.

The tiny light grew and parted above the man with the six wings, raining down on the edge of the crater. He closed his eyes, momentarily blinded by the presence.

„Seraph Matthew,“ a voice spoke, surrounding him from all sides.

Matthew scoffed and opened the eyes in his face again. He didn’t dare to open the eyes in his wings yet. He wouldn’t be the first angel to have his eyes burnt by Michael’s judgement, so they remained hidden behind black feathers.

„Archangel Michael,“ Matthew answered. He stared at the figure in front of him, knowing that every other figure standing above him would look the same, would be the same figure.

Matthew snorted. Michael had always been a show off, aiming to impress the culprit with his appearance of purity. His white wings were casting off light, long blond hair floating in gentle, perfect curls in the chill night air. Wasn‘t that gloating? Or at least a heavy streak of Superbia? In Matthew’s opinion every angel was just as sinful; he just didn’t see a point in hiding it. They should give him a bloody medal for being the only honest angel in heaven. But instead…

„You’re not even trying to run, Seraph?“

„I’m not some little rabbit you can hunt around the world, as you fucking know,“ Matthew snapped. „Don’t make the mistake and think of me as one of those you’ve judged before.“

Michael sighed. „Superbia, here we meet one of your gravest sins.“

Matthew barked a laugh. „I rather indulge in pride than spent my life bowed down and whimpering for the love of someone who won’t give it.“

„Don’t speak foul of Him, you envious creature!“ Michael’s words boomed around Matthew.

Matthew smiled at the archangel. „Do I hear Ira in your words?“

„Seraph Matthew, you are charged of committing four Peccatum Mortiferum.“

„Definitely Ira,“ Matthew drawled. „You know, I have committed many a sin, but I can _pride_ myself that I never committed that one.“

„Do you deny committing the sins of Gula, Individia, Superbia and Luxuria?“ Michael continued.

„Guilty in all points,“ Matthew answered. „Send me to hell if you must.“

Laughter came from the edge of the crater behind Matthew. He turned to discover a man with three wings, dressed in a black robe.

„We will gladly accept you in our ranks, Seraph Matthew.“

„You wish, Belial,“ Matthew snorted and turned his head to one of the Michaels. „Just to be clear, I don’t want to be on any of your teams.“

Belial chuckled again. „That’s the spirit that brings you to us the fastest.“

„We’ll see about that, shall we?“ Matthew snapped.

Michael cleared his throat. „He saw this would happen in his endless knowledge. Seraph Matthew, we’re giving you a last chance to redeem yourself and prove yourself worthy of the heavenly ranks.“

„Like fuck I will return,“ Matthew snarled.

Belial laughed. „You’re falling to us almost too easily.“

Michael smiled and dipped his head. „None of us is to pass judgement on this defendant. Seraph Matthew, you are to be soul-bound to one of His most beloved children for a year.“

„What? You‘ve got to be kidding me!“ Matthew shouted over Belial‘s laughter. „I will never kneel in front of clay!“

„And once this year is over, the child of Adam will pass judgement over you.“

„Splendid, this way two souls will fall to us,“ Belial giggled while disappearing in a cloud of darkness. „No mortal soul could withstand corruption when soul-bound to this Seraph.“


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet a Bad Humoured Angel and a Blond Man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on we go with the first chapter. I know I‘ve not done nearly enough background research and it might bite me in the arse later, but to hell with it. I can only say it plays in a parallel universe where history went slightly differently, lol.
> 
> This title is nicked from Subway to Sally‘s Das Rätsel (The Riddle). It means _A thing that knows good and bad_. The three verses of this song present three riddles, first god, then the devil and after that the human. The title is from the third verse.

„And this would be your room,“ Dom said and opened a door.

The dark-haired man nodded and stepped inside, taking in the old furnishing and the bed with the sturdy, wooden bedframe. „This is a very old house,“ he stated.

Dom nodded. „I‘ve lived in here for ages. But you know how it is. Maintaining a whole house on your own is a bit too exhausting.“

The other nodded. „So, I‘d have to pay rent, water, electricity and help you fix a few things?“

Dom grinned. „Yes, that‘d be the deal. Of course, the kitchen is free to use, you‘d have your own bathroom there,“ Dom pointed at a door at the other side of the room and watched the applicant walk towards it, „living room is free to use as well.“

The applicant came back from the bathroom and nodded. „There are more rooms in this house I‘ve noticed, do you mind me asking what‘s going to happen with those? Are more people going to move in?“

Dom laughed and shook his head. „They‘re store rooms and most are empty, if you want to take one or two over, feel free to, but tell me beforehand so I can move my stuff out. And there won‘t be any more people renting,“ he sighed. „One is the most I can get Matthew to agree on.“

The applicant lifted an eyebrow.

„You‘ll meet eventually, should you decide to move in. I hope you‘ll get along, but he usually stays out of people‘s way when they‘re living here.“

„I also saw a dog basket and some off those things parrots sit on…“

„Yeah, those belong to Matthew,“ Dom laughed. „You better not refer to him as a parrot, though.“ He left the room and led the way to the living room.

„A hammock?“ the dark-haired man asked and walked towards the black cloth that was tightened in one of the corners. Just when he extended his hand to give it a push, he heard an angry croak from behind and something swished past his head.

„You better don‘t touch any hammocks in here, they‘re Matthew‘s,“ Dom said.

The applicant nodded and retreated slowly. „A raven,“ he whispered, staring at the huge, black bird. The raven stared back, fury gleaming in the black eyes. It had a red circle on its head and red marks above its tail.

„Is he aggressive?“

Dom sighed. „Not if you stay out of his way. Just don‘t let him intimidate you too much.“

The raven croaked at Dom.

„Oh, shut up,“ Dom shot back and sat down on the sofa, motioning for his guest to sit in the chair opposite.

„So,“ he continued once the other man had sat down, „what do you say?“

„Apart from the angry raven, I quite like this house,“ the applicant answered.

Dom smiled. „Just tell me when you want to move in so we can get all this paper work settled.“

The other shrugged. „I can move out by the end of the month, just need to figure out where to take my own furniture.“

„Oh, I‘m sure we‘ll find a place for it, no need to chuck it out,“ Dom said.

The raven flew over to sit down on Dom‘s shoulder, croaking into his ear. Dom turned his head. „No, you‘re not getting a say in this.“

About an hour later, Dom stood at the window and watched his future house mate, Gareth, walk down the pathway to the street.

„I don‘t like him,“ a voice drawled behind him. Dom turned around to look at the seraph lounging on the sofa.

„You like no one,“ he retorted.

„I‘ll drive him out of this house within a week,“ Matthew announced and spread his wings, knocking Gareth‘s glass from the table.

„We have this very same discussion each time I‘m looking for someone to rent a few rooms,“ Dom snarled. „And every time I tell you the same, ‘if you want to keep a roof above your head, you better behave‘.“

„Whatever,“ Matthew grumbled and rose from the sofa to crawl into the hammock. He curled his wings around his naked form, the eyes in them watching Dom cleaning away the glasses and the spilled water.

 

 

A few weeks later, Gareth had moved in.

„Settling in alright?“ Dom asked one evening when they met in the kitchen.

Gareth nodded. „Yeah.“

„But…?“ Dom dug deeper.

„Your raven, he keeps staring at me in a rather hostile manner,“ Gareth admitted after looking behind him as if checking that said raven wasn‘t present.

Dom chuckled. „He does that to everyone.“

„I know it‘s stupid, but sometimes I wonder if he‘s plotting something to drive me out of the house again,“ Gareth said and laughed uneasily. „As I said, it‘s stupid, he‘s just a raven.“

Dom frowned and cocked his head. „As I told you, don‘t let him intimidate you too much.“

„You‘re not really helping me to relax here…“

„Because he‘s no ordinary raven, as you might have noticed before,“ Dom answered.

„Where do these marks come from? I‘ve never known of a breed of raven that would have red marks.“

Dom chuckled. „As I said, he‘s a very special specimen.“ He frowned when the doorbell rang and looked at Gareth. „Are you expecting someone?“

Gareth shook his head. „No, my friends know that I rather have a calm night in after working.“

Sighing, Dom let go of the knife he had used to chop a few potatoes and walked to the door. He opened the door and sighed again. „Good evening, Virginia.“

„Evening, Dominic,“ the brunette woman greeted and walked inside. „I need you and your angel,“ she announced and walked towards the kitchen, Dom in her trail. „I need to get an exorcism done and it‘d be helpful if you wouldn‘t behead the poor chap again.“

Dom snorted, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that Matthew raised his head from inside his hammock, his halo shimmering red in the darkness. He flapped his wings and shrunk until nothing of him could be seen inside the hammock from afar. A few seconds later, the raven came flying towards Dom and sat down on the human‘s shoulder.

„You know how I work, if you don‘t like it, go and get someone else,“ Dom grumbled and followed Virginia into the kitchen.

She stopped dead when she noticed Gareth. „You‘re a new one, aren‘t you?“

Gareth nodded, staring wide-eyed at them. Dom wondered how much he had heard from their conversation, judging from the frantic way Gareth‘s eyes darted from one to the other, he must have heard the beheading comment.

„Why haven‘t you told me that someone new is renting?“ Virginia asked.

„I didn‘t know it‘s your business what I‘m doing in my house,“ Dom snarled. He went to the cupboard, picked a pack of ladyfingers and sat down at the table. „What do you want this time?“ he asked while breaking the ladyfingers and feeding the raven that had hopped onto the table.

„As I said, I need an exorcism,“ Virginia said and sat down.

„A what?“ Gareth asked and stared at her.

Virginia turned her head to look at him. „Hasn‘t Dominic told you what he does for a living?“

Gareth shook his head.

„He hunts down demons…,“

„And sometimes angels, depending on the client,“ Dom said.

„Are you still working for Yakov?“ Virginia asked, frowning.

Dom shrugged and traced the red ring on the raven‘s head. „If the payment is right I‘ll exorcise anything. Never knew why _angels_ should be allowed to just possess a human simply because they‘re not fallen yet.“

„But they‘re angels, it‘d be an honour to be chosen by an angel,“ Gareth stated, staring at Dom.

„Demons are nothing but fallen angels,“ Dom answered. „How would you know the difference?“

„Demons are vile and evil beings,“ Gareth retorted. „They could never fill you with warmth like an angel could.“ He stopped and frowned at the raven that was watching him closely. It croaked, managing to sound somewhat derisive, and picked on another ladyfinger.

„That warmth has nothing to do with angel or demon,“ Virginia explained. „It has to do with the pure energy that‘s forced into your body. Actually, the higher the angel or demon in hierarchy, the more power the entity contains, the warmer the feeling. Just imagine a cherub manifesting itself in a simple human being. You‘d burn up inwardly.“

„Anyway, what do you have for us?“ Dom asked.

„Nothing particularly hard, just a harlequin,“ Virginia answered.

„You‘re calling me because of a harlequin,“ Dom said. He glanced at the raven, who had stopped nibbling on his biscuit and looked at Virginia, head cocked.

She nodded. „Yepp, and I see Matthew‘s interest is caught.“

Dom squinted at the bird. „Of course it is. They share their sins.“ He sighed and rose from the table. „Let me fetch my equipment and we‘re ready to go.“ He glanced at Gareth, offering a small smile. „I should have mentioned something about this before you moved in…“

Gareth nodded and squinted at the raven who was sitting on Dom‘s shoulder.

„I promise you can ask me later all you want, should you want to continue living in this house,“ Dom said and left the room.

 

 

Gareth had tried to sleep, but the events of this evening had kept him awake. Was he really living in the house of an exorcist? It could explain some of the strange things he had seen, the raven only being the detail standing out the most. Gareth had seen peculiar charms in the cupboards and drawers, strange weaponry lining the walls of the room next to Dom‘s bedroom.

He didn‘t doubt the existence of angels or demons, something that often had brought him taunting from his friends, but he would have never thought he‘d actually come into touch with that world again.

Gareth frowned. He tried to remember a certain event from his very early childhood years. He would swear on anything holy and important to him, that he had seen an angel when he was a boy, on his first day of kindergarten. He had looked up into the sky and the angel had flown by, dark wings rustling in the breeze.

He had told the nurse, but no one had believed him. She had pointed at a raven that just had landed in the tree and told him he‘d imagined the angel. Ravens are huge and impressive birds when you‘re still small, she had said.

Gareth heard the door go and sat up, listening to footsteps and angry voices. He frowned. One of those voices belonged to his landlord, but the other he had never heard before. Gareth shivered. Even while hissing viciously, this second voice had a silken quality, soothing and somewhat lulling.

Curiously, Gareth left his bed and crept out of his room, following the voices to the corridor.

„What‘s your problem?“ the second voice snarled. „You‘ve got his head, haven‘t you?“

„Yes, and no thanks to you,“ Dom‘s voice snapped.

„I don‘t know where I‘ve agreed to ever help you.“

„And I don‘t know where it‘s been said that you could try to get me killed,“ Dom hissed.

The second voice laughed. „We both know this little demon would never have killed you.“

„No, you just made sure his master now knows who to come after.“

„Harlequins are used by low lords, do you really think such a flea would come after _us_?“ the second man laughed again. „Actually, I imagine them getting pissed off and joining forces to get rid of the mad axe man.“

„Maybe I should add your head to my collection,“ Dom snarled just when Gareth had reached the staircase and was peeking down. He gasped at the sight he was met with.

Dom stood in the middle of the corridor, one of his hands gripping black hair and pulling the head attached back, his other hand holding an axe against a pale throat. Gareth noticed heads hanging on Dom‘s belt, most of them shrunken and withered away, grotesque faces baring teeth and their eyes wide and vacant. One of those heads however, a black face with brown horns curling backwards and yellow tusks pushing out from beneath dark lips, seemed to be fresh. It wasn‘t shrunken yet, nor had the skin the dry texture of the other heads.

This wasn‘t what caught Gareth‘s attention, though. What his eyes were glued to was the second man in the corridor. He was naked and pale, his hands closed around Dom‘s throat. Gareth noticed dark red marks on the pale man‘s hips, as if someone had gripped him hard from behind and left bruises. Gareth also noticed the red halo gleaming in the sparsely lit room.

But what his attention was drawn to unerringly were the wings. Six huge, black wings were spread proudly behind the pale man. They were covered with blue eyes, all of them trained on Dom.

At Gareth‘s gasp, the eyes in the wings moved from Dom to the staircase, alighting on the observer within a blink. Gareth cowered down, the sudden attention making him feel uneasy.

„We‘ve got a watcher,“ the angel spoke and let go of Dom‘s throat.

Frowning, Dom let go of the hair in his hand and let the axe sink down. He turned and noticed Gareth. He sighed.

„Do you want a cup of tea?“ Dom asked. „Or something slightly stronger? I make a wicked mead.“

„Mead?“ Gareth asked weakly.

„Oh, yeah,“ the angel purred and craned his neck to bite into Dom‘s earlobe. „I‘ll have some.“

„Of course, you would,“ Dom answered and batted the angel away. He jerked his head towards the living room.

About half an hour later, they were sitting in the living room. Gareth had taken the armchair while Dom had simply sat down on the floor and the angel was lounging on the sofa. Gareth sipped on his glass of mead, trying not to look beneath the angel‘s waistline and to ignore the smug smirk on those red lips.

„Six wings covered in eyes,“ Gareth muttered. „You‘re a seraph.“

„Yes, I am,“ the angel answered. „Or used to be, depending on how strict you see the definition.“

„Why…?“

„I‘ve never been standing next to _His_ throne going,“ Matthew lifted his voice, the most beautiful sound filling the room when he continued, „ _Holy Holy Holy Holy_.“

Gareth sighed when the angel had stopped and smiled.

The angel‘s smirk deepened and he took a sip from his own glass. Gareth‘s eyes were drawn to the soft bobbing of the Adam‘s apple.

„Do you want me?“ the angel asked once he had put his glass onto the table. He leant towards Gareth and closed the eyes in his wings.

Gareth swallowed and opened his mouth, leaning towards the angel himself.

„Ignore him,“ Dom said.

Gareth blinked and shook his head, while the angel chuckled and reclined again, the eyes in his wings watching Gareth closely again.

„Matthew‘s been banned from heaven because of Luxuria,“ Dom said.

„Amongst other things,“ the angel drawled.

„He‘s a fallen angel?“ Gareth asked.

„Why else would a seraph be on Earth?“

„But seraphim are incorruptible,“ Gareth whispered.

Matthew chuckled again. „One could say I am. Never strayed from my way.“

Gareth looked at Dom, wishing he hadn‘t turned his head, since the other man had just removed his belt, put it in front of him and had started to clean the axe. Gareth saw sprinkles of dried blood on it, most of it pooling in the lines of runes carved into the metal.

Dom looked up, noticing Gareth‘s eyes on him. „All right, I promised you answers should you want to continue living underneath my roof.“

Gareth nodded weakly and returned his attention to the angel. „Matthew,“ he whispered. „You‘re the raven.“

„You‘re one smart cookie, aren‘t you?“ Matthew answered.

Gareth felt himself blushing. He looked back at Dom, pointing at the heads. „Are those…?“

„Demons and angels likewise,“ Dom answered. „As I said earlier, I make no difference in whom I exorcise.“

Matthew laughed. „He once almost beheaded Michael.“

Dom grinned. „At least he kept out of our way for a few years.“

„And you scared off Belial as well.“

Dom shrugged. „You don‘t mess with someone who threatened to behead a bloody archangel, no matter if you‘re angel or demon.“

„You threatened to behead the archangel Michael?“

„I didn‘t know it was him when I started the exorcism. I daresay he just escaped the axe because I was surprised to see him emerging as well.“

„But why do you behead them? I never heard of an exorcism that made something this radical necessary.“

„Dear Donar‘s still sticking to his Barbarian ways,“ Matthew giggled.

„They‘re not just trophies,“ Dom hissed. „You bloody well know I use them as a medium.“

„But they‘re mostly trophies,“ Matthew drawled. He sunk to the floor and picked up one of the heads, the other heads being dragged towards him. „A shame you had to kill this one so fast. I never had the chance to spoil her.“

„That‘s why I killed her fast,“ Dom snapped and yanked the belt out of Matthew‘s hand, closely observing the head with the long, flimsy blond hair. „I needed a pure medium for a change.“

Matthew chuckled and reached for the fresh head. „What are you going to make of the harlequin?“

Dom shrugged. „Don‘t know yet. This might just become a trophy if I don‘t have a good idea come morning.“

„Harlequins are agile and quick,“ Matthew said. He sat cross-legged on the floor and held the head up to his face. „You could work with that.“

Dom looked up from his axe and cocked his head. Eventually, he nodded. „Good idea, actually. I think I can do something with that.“

Matthew giggled and put the head to the floor in favour to reach for his glass of mead. His eyes fell on Gareth. „You never answered me,“ he purred. „Do you want me?“

„Stop seducing my house mate and give me one of your feathers,“ Dom said before Gareth could react.

Growling, Matthew turned back to Dom and reached behind, plucking a black feather from his wings and holding it out to Dom.

„You know what I want in exchange for a feather.“

Dom sniggered. „And you know that you‘re not really in the position to demand anything,“ he retorted and took the feather.

„Fine,“ Matthew snapped, pushed himself into a standing position and walked over to the hammock. He crawled into it and wrapped his wings around himself, the blue eyes closely watching Dom and Gareth.

„He thinks it‘s unsettling if he stares at me like that,“ Dom explained cheerfully without looking into Matthew‘s direction. „I‘ve just grown used to it over the years.“

Gareth nodded and watched how Dom pulled a bag of knifes and other sharp instruments close. He chose a long, silver instrument similar to an apple corer and used it to screw a hole into the top of the head. A stream of black blood started running down the hay-like hair, but Dom ignored it. He put the tool down, picking up Matthew‘s feather and pressing it into the fresh hole.

Humming, he reached for a few bandages and wrapped the head into them until only the black feather was visible atop a white lump. Still humming, Dom shoved the head into a linen back and stood. He walked into the kitchen.

Gareth swallowed and glanced at Matthew. A plethora of blue eyes was fixated on him. Swallowing again, Gareth rose and hurried after Dom, figuring it was less awkward watching the human, or what he hoped to be a human, preparing a head for whatever than being stared at by angel wings.

He entered the kitchen to find Dom rummaging in the drawers. He eventually emitted a shout of victory and turned around, packs of salt in his arms. He grinned at Gareth.

„Since you‘re here anyway, could you help me please?“

„What?“ Gareth squeaked. He looked around in the kitchen, panicked.

„Just hold the bag open while I pour the salt in,“ Dom explained. He put the salt down on the table and seized the linen bag and held it out to Gareth. Hesitantly, Gareth took it and held it towards Dom, arms outstretched.

Dom laughed and reached into the bag, lifting the head a bit to enable the salt to spill beneath. „You know, he‘s dead, he won‘t bite you.“

„Yeah, but he‘s…“ Gareth faltered, „well… dead.“

„Exactly, no point in being scared of him. And he had a good death. Went down in a fight.“

„I don‘t know if that‘s a good death.“

„It certainly is better than dying in your bed,“ Dom answered. He turned back to the table and ripped open another package of salt that was poured into the linen bag.

„I‘m not so sure about that,“ Gareth said.

Dom glanced up at him before turning to retrieve the last package of salt. „I forgot; of course.“

Gareth frowned, waiting for an explanation, but Dom remained silent. Finally, the whole head including the feather was covered.

„Cheers,“ Dom said and took the bag out of Gareth hands. He grinned and tied the bag closed.

„What are you doing with it now?“

„You seen the oven in the cellar?“

Gareth nodded.

„It‘s gonna stay there for a few hours and then I‘ll prepare some charms to stuff into it so I can use it for exorcisms.“

Gareth nodded again. And followed Dom downstairs, watching him preparing the oven and shoving the linen bag into it.

„Doesn‘t it catch fire or something?“

Dom shook his head. „Nope, it‘s magic,“ he announced.

Gareth frowned, but deemed it wise not to engage further for now. They went back up in silence.

Dom stopped in front of the living room and turned to Gareth. „So, what‘s your decision?“

„Decision?“

„Are you moving again or are you staying?“

Gareth shrugged. „Can I think about it?“

„Of course. Tell me in the morning,“ Dom answered. He opened the living room door, sure enough finding dozens of eyes trained on him.

„Oi, Matthew,“ he shouted, „stop sulking and get your arse upstairs.“

The angel lifted his head and stared at Dom, not moving apart from that.

„Of course I know what you want in return for a feather.“

Slowly, a smirk spread over Matthew‘s face and he crawled out of the hammock, stretching and swaying towards Dom.

„What does he want in return?“ Gareth asked.

„Luxuria,“ Matthew purred, brushing his lips against Gareth‘s ear. Yelping, Gareth jumped back, holding a hand against his ear, and stared after the laughing angel who ascended the stairs without looking back.

Dom shrugged. „It‘s his favourite sin.“

He rushed after Matthew, dragging one of his fingertips over the red marks on Matthew‘s hips.  



	3. Don't Act Like You Don't Know The Tune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A typical morning in the Howard house and more introductory talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow chapter is slow once again. A bit of fulfilling wishes and more introductory stuff, getting the action rolling, slowly.
> 
> This chapter‘s name is borrowed from Jason Webley‘s Dance while the Sky crashes down. A song, or album, that I find could be the soundtrack to what I want this story to feel like.

Dom stirred and sighed. There was some weight lying on his body and he felt something moist tracing his necklace. He opened his eyes just enough to notice that it was barely dawn outside.

„Matthew,“ he groaned.

„I‘m horny,“ the seraph purred. He shoved his tongue underneath Dom‘s necklace and toyed with the pendants.

„And I‘m still asleep,“ Dom retorted and turned onto his side.

„Come on, Donar, let me have you,“ Matthew drawled and brought a wing over Dom. The blue eyes in it stared at the him.

Dom snorted. „I don‘t think you have earned that yet.“

More wings rustled and Dom was met with even more eyes. „You don‘t know what you‘re missing out on,“ Matthew stated and pressed his lips against Dom‘s shoulder blades.

Dom closed his eyes, allowing Matthew to do as he liked for a while. Soft lips ghosted over Dom‘s skin, from his shoulders over his arms and eventually lingered on his hips. Matthew poked his tongue out and traced the line of runes inked into Dom‘s side until his nose bumped into Dom‘s armpit.

„Do I really have to seduce you?“

Dom chuckled. „Have you ever succeeded?“ He lifted his hand to stroked over Matthew‘s wings, circling one eye and tracing the primaries. He smiled at the quivering limb.

„One could argue on that point,“ Matthew purred and closed the eyes in his wings.

Dom‘s smile grew at this small sign of submission and turned, resting his hands on the marks on Matthew‘s hips. The seraph shivered and leant his head back.

„What if I promise you to behave for a week?“ he asked and bucked his hips against Dom‘s.

„You know it doesn‘t work this way,“ Dom chuckled and dipped his head to bite into Matthew‘s shoulder. Slender fingers grabbed his own shoulders and squeezed tightly, but Matthew didn‘t push away. „You behave for a week and maybe then I‘ll agree.“

Matthew pouted and the eyes in his wings shot open, narrowing on Dom.

Dom grinned. „I know, you‘ll never be able to go through with that.“ He nibbled along Matthew‘s throat and over his jaw until he had reached his lips. „Turn around if you want some.“

„Can‘t we do something different than doggy style for a change?“

„What do you have in mind?“ Dom asked. He reached out and traced the margin of the wing closest to him.

„Let me ride you,“ Matthew demanded. He pushed Dom onto his back and climbed astride.

Dom licked his lips and nodded. Smirking, Matthew bent down and nibbled on Dom‘s earlobe.

„And I am successful when trying to seduce you,“ he drawled.

Dom growled and moved his hands to grip Matthew‘s lowest wings, hard. „Mind your place,“ he hissed.

Growling, Matthew twisted and flapped his free wings, refusing to answer. He glowered at Dom, who reciprocated the stare.

„Just because you‘re the only one allowed to touch my wings, doesn‘t mean I‘ll allow you to hurt them like this,“ Matthew hissed and curled his fingers around Dom‘s throat.

„I will treat them how I deem fit as long as you don‘t acknowledge your place, Matthew,“ Dom stated, calmly, and pulled the wings forward.

Matthew hissed. „Fine, whatever you want, Donar.“

He loosened his hold on Dom‘s throat and dipped his head. „Let my wings go.“

„I‘m missing one word,“ Dom sung cheerfully.

Matthew lifted his head and glowered at Dom. „I won‘t say it. Break my wings if you want, but I won‘t beg you.“

Dom chuckled and pulled on the wings, putting more strain on them for a moment before letting go again. „I know.“

They glared at each other while Matthew flexed his maltreated wings. Dom reached up again, ignoring Matthew‘s warning growl. He stroked one finger over the margins until the seraph was relaxed again.

Matthew closed his eyes and purred. He let his hands wander over Dom‘s torso and stopped at his nipples, running slow circles over them. Dom moaned and arched his back, their erections sliding against each other.

Lifetimes spent together had granted them with profound knowledge of the other‘s body and the perfect knowledge of how to manipulate the other just the right way.

„Turn around,“ Dom whispered and took hold of Matthew‘s shoulders. „On your back.“

Matthew opened his eyes and pouted. Eventually, he brought his wings around himself and fell to the side, next to Dom. He looked up, watching the human crawl over his body and straddling him, carefully avoiding the sensitive wings with his knees.

Matthew lifted his eyebrows, surprised at the careful treatment. He reached out to seize Dom‘s wrist and pulled Dom‘s hand towards his face, curling his tongue around the middle finger. Grinning, Dom pressed the digit against Matthew‘s tongue.

Moaning, Matthew lifted his head a fraction to cover all of Dom‘s finger, sucking in the index finger as well.

„You‘re filthy,“ Dom growled.

Matthew just winked at him and let Dom‘s fingers fall from his mouth, loosening his hold on Dom‘s wrist as well. Dom reached behind himself, ignoring Matthew‘s spreading legs and pushed a finger into himself.

He noticed the eyes in Matthew‘s wings alighting on his hand while Matthew‘s face remained staring at Dom‘s. Slowly, a smirk spread.

„And you say I‘m filthy,“ he drawled.

„You‘re bad influence,“ Dom retorted. He arched his back, groaning, his eyes squeezed shut. Matthew laughed, the sound slithering smoothly over Dom‘s skin and mingling in pearls with the tiny droplets of sweat. He never failed to be astonished how Matthew could manage to keep up his angelic appearance even during his most filthy acts.

Dom opened his eyes again and looked down at the angel. Matthew was returning his look, eyes dark and lips red and parted, black hair fanning out on the red pillow case. The pale skin served as a perfect contrast, only accentuating the beauty that the angel possessed.

Sighing, Dom removed his fingers and reached further back to run his hands over Matthew‘s hard-on. Slowly, he sunk down, pressing himself onto Matthew.

He stilled once Matthew was fully sheathed and closed his eyes again, aware of eyes roaming over his body and taking in each detail.

„Donar,“ the angel rasped and bucked his hips.

Hissing, Dom opened his eyes and lifted his own hips and slammed them down again. He howled when he felt Matthew‘s head hit his prostrate. Matthew‘s hands brushed over the runes on Dom‘s sides, starting at the runes at the knees and following the inked trail until his hands reached Dom‘s head.

He half pulled Dom down, half sat up himself. Dom‘s hands were in Matthew‘s hair as soon as their lips met in a violent dance. Soon the short moment of tenderness they had shared had dissipated, the battle of tongues transferring to brusque movements of hips, tearing at hair and scratching on skin.

Matthew‘s hands were curled around Dom‘s throat again, restricting the airflow until Dom‘s hands gripped Matthew‘s hips. He dug his fingers into the dark red marks and pushed Matthew‘s waist down.

Groaning, Matthew fell back onto the mattress, still holding on to Dom‘s throat, albeit loosely. He arched his back and pressed his head into the pillow. Grinding his hips down, Dom leant down and bit into Matthew‘s lower lip, a tiny trickle of blood flowing into his mouth.

Matthew whimpered and writhed, spilling into Dom.

He relaxed on the mattress and caught his breath. After a moment, he opened his eyes, grinning at Dom who just lifted himself off him. Matthew sat up and reached for Dom‘s erection, brushing his lips over the side of Dom‘s throat and over his jaw.

„You‘ve spilt angel‘s blood,“ he purred. „That‘s just another sin to seal your fate.“

Dom‘s hands fisted in Matthew‘s hair and he pulled the angel‘s head back. „The amount of your blood I‘ve spilt over time,“ he chuckled. „Those few drops don‘t count anymore.“ He dipped his head to lick over Matthew‘s lips. „But it‘s nice to see that committing such a tiny sin still gets you off.“

Purring, Matthew tightened his grip on Dom‘s flesh and moved over the shaft, pressing his thumb into the slit. „There‘s nothing as potent as your sexual partner becoming even more sinful.“

Dom moaned and shifted, allowing Matthew‘s free hand to slide between his buttocks and push into him.

„Mhmmm,“ Matthew hummed. „I can still feel my semen in you.“ He easily slipped two fingers in, pausing only when his knuckles hit the tight ring of muscles. He wiggled his fingers, stroking over Dom‘s prostrate.

Dom arched his back, moaning Matthew‘s name.

„You like this, huh?“ Matthew asked, his voice taking on a slight mocking tone.

Growling, Dom extended one hand and fisted it in Matthew‘s feathers. „You know what I‘d like?“ Dom snarled at the hissing angel. „Your lips around my dick. Why don‘t you use this foul mouth of yours for something useful for a change?“ He changed his grip on Matthew‘s wings to the margins and pushed down, forcing Matthew to cower in front of him, face only a fraction away from Dom‘s weeping tip.

„Go on,“ Dom growled. „Lick.“

„I‘ll bite it off,“ Matthew snarled.

„Not if you like your wings unarmed,“ Dom retorted and pushed his hips forward against Matthew‘s lips. „And what greater sin to commit than coming on a seraph‘s face?“

Matthew chuckled and poked his tongue out, lapping at the tip. „You almost make giving a blowjob a tempting prospect.“

He closed his lips around Dom‘s shaft and pushed his head forwards, opening his mouth a bit to run his tongue over Dom‘s balls and withdrew until only the head remained in his mouth. He turned his free wings to stare at Dom and flattened his tongue against Dom‘s slit.

Dom let go of Matthew‘s wings in favour of yanking on the black hair. „Stop teasing,“ he growled.

Chuckling, Matthew grabbed Dom‘s hips and pulled him further in, humming while he was running his tongue around Dom‘s erection, tracing veins and spreading saliva while sucking.

Dom groaned and yanked Matthew‘s head forward, spilling into his mouth. They remained still for a while, the only sounds those of Dom heaving breath into his lungs and Matthew swallowing.

Eventually, Dom let go of Matthew‘s hair and the seraph shot up and pressed their lips together, pushing Dom backwards. Matthew pushed his tongue into Dom‘s mouth, stroking over the palate and against Dom‘s tongue, forcing Dom to taste himself on Matthew‘s tongue.

Laughing, Matthew let go of Dom and left the room, leaving Dom to swipe over his mouth and roll out of bed.

 

 

Gareth looked up from his toast and scrambled eggs when he saw the door go and Matthew entered. He winked at the human and walked straight to the cupboard to retrieve a new package of ladyfingers. Leaning against the kitchen counter he tore the package open and started nibbling on a biscuit. He stared at Gareth, smirking, and sucked the biscuit into his mouth only to slowly pull it out again.

Gareth swallowed and looked down at his own breakfast. He yelped when the package of ladyfingers landed on the table in front of him and two pale hands came into sight, supporting the angel as he leaned over the table.

Gareth swallowed and scrambled for a topic that was innocuous enough to not veer into sinful topics. „Do you think this diet of lady fingers is healthy?“ he eventually choked out.

Matthew grunted, „Sponge cakes are the closest I get to manna since they chucked me out of heaven and tied me to this chunk of wood.“

Gareth blushed, feeling ashamed for having offended a seraph. He still couldn‘t quite believe that an angel as high as Matthew could be so sinful to be condemned to live on earth.

He heard the door go and Dom sighing. „He‘s always charming like that.“

„What does he mean?“

„Guess who he‘s referring to,“ Dom said and busied himself with preparing breakfast. He pushed some bread into the toaster and retrieved some sausages and cheese from the fridge. „According to Norse mythology, the two first humans, Askr and Embla, were made from two tree trunks that the gods Odin, Hœnir und Loðurr found on a beach,“ he explained while setting the table.

„Why would he refer to Norse mythology?“ Gareth wondered.

„Yes, why would I?“ Matthew purred and leaned closer again.

Gareth shoved a few eggs onto his fork and lifted them in offering, but Matthew retreated, scrunching up his nose.

„I‘ve had enough salty stuff this morning to last me a century,“ he snapped.

Dom chuckled and pressed himself against Matthew from behind, his hands fitting perfectly on the marks. „You only have yourself and your foul gob to blame,“ he drawled into Matthew‘s ear. „Besides, you seemed to enjoy yourself pretty well.“

The angel snorted and flapped his wings to get rid of Dom. His eyes fell on Gareth who had watched the scene with wide eyes, fork with eggs still raised.

„And I tell you, he wants me.“

Matthew walked towards the table and leaned over it, one hand extended to dip Gareth‘s face up. „Don‘t you wonder how it‘d feel to be filled by me?“ he purred and closed his lips over the fork. He slowly withdrew again and swallowed the eggs, eyes closed.

Gareth shifted uneasily, trying to escape the eyes in Matthew‘s wings that were closely watching him. His eyes fell on an eye on Matthew‘s last wing. It was almost completely hidden by black feathers and sat low on the premiers.

This single eye wasn‘t vibrant blue like the others, but of milky quality and unseeing.

Noticing where Gareth‘s eyes had wandered to, Matthew moved that wing further behind his back, closing the eyes on the last pair of his wings and hiding them behind the black feathers.

„Have you thought about what you want to do?“ Dom asked while sitting down and starting to butter his toast. „Move out or stay?“

Gareth looked down at the crumbs on his plate. „Aren‘t you afraid I‘d tell someone about Matthew?“

„No,“ Dom answered cheerfully and took a bite from his toast. „You wouldn‘t remember him.“

Gareth looked up, frowning. „What?“

„We‘ve got ways,“ Dom answered.

„Just don‘t take precautions,“ Matthew giggled.

Helplessly, Gareth looked from one to the other.

Dom sighed. „What he says. I must warn you to not prepare anything that could enable you to counter the spell.“

„Dear Iantha thought she could trick us and set up a few charms of her own,“ Matthew stated and nibbled on one of his ladyfingers. „It backfired violently and she ended up in Bedlam.“

„I still feel bad for her,“ Dom admitted. „She ended up undergoing lobotomy.“

„Served her right,“ Matthew said and reached for a new biscuit. „Thinking she could outdo a seraph.“

„You‘d wipe out my memory,“ Gareth stated meekly.

„Just your memory of Matthew and why you left this house,“ Dom answered. „The spell is safe unless you try and mingle with it, which is why I told you to do absolutely nothing about it. It‘s too powerful for a mere human being to counter.“

Gareth nodded. „If I stayed, would there be danger?“

Dom lifted an eyebrow and chuckled. „Haven‘t heard that question in quite some time from a house mate. Most are too enthralled by Matthew.“ He grew serious again and put his toast on the plate, interlacing the fingers of his hands and resting his chin on them. „But to answer your question, yes, there would be danger. As you‘ve noticed, Matthew‘s a seraph, one of the highest of all angels.“

„Which means heaven wants me back, although it was them who chucked me out,“ Matthew explained. He had sat down on a chair and reclined, grinning smugly. „And hell wants me among their ranks because after good old Luci, I‘m the highest angel who has fallen.“

„You‘re proud of that,“ Gareth murmured.

„Of course,“ Matthew purred and stretched his back, pushing his chest forward. „Heaven and hell are all scrambling over each other to win me over. What‘s not to be proud of?“

„Which brings us straight to the second reason they kicked you out in the first place,“ Dom grunted.

Matthew chuckled. „There‘s nothing wrong with some Superbia.“

„Why did they banish you, if I may ask?“

„Gluttony, envy, pride and lust,“ Matthew drawled.

„And recently, he discovered Ira‘s to his liking as well,“ Dom added.

„Those are deadly sins,“ Gareth gasped, staring at Matthew.

The seraph grinned and ran one of his hands down his chest until it disappeared beneath the table top, he let his head fall back and closed the eyes in his face, lips parted. The eyes in his wings kept staring at Gareth, waiting for a reaction.

„But you‘re an angel,“ he whispered weakly, trying to look away from the seraph. And trying not to imagine what Matthew was doing with his hands out of Gareth‘s view.

„Don‘t misjudge him,“ Dom said. „He‘s a vile being.“

Gareth nodded and directed his eyes towards Dom. „So you‘re doing exorcisms for a living.“

Dom nodded. „I needed to find a way to earn my living and Matthew‘s sponge cakes.“

„The only thing he‘s good at is beheading people and raiding monasteries,“ Matthew chuckled.

Dom glowered at the seraph. „At least I‘m good at something, unlike a certain other occupant of this room.“

„Ouch, that hurt my feelings,“ Matthew sniffed.

„For whom are you working?“

Dom shrugged. „At the moment mostly Virginia and Yakov, but sometimes other people knock on my door as well.“

„Are they cleric?“ Gareth asked. „I mean, if she‘s assigning you jobs rather often“

„Virginia‘s an archaeologist,“ Dom explained over Matthew‘s laughter. „She specialises in cult items of early Christianity. Unfortunately, one of those cult items contained a spirit and her assistant ended up being possessed and killing half of the expedition team.“

„You exorcised the demon.“

Dom shook his head. „No. It was one of those cases where an exorcism is impossible, because the spirit and the host merge to become one being.“ He looked up into Gareth‘s blank face. „Usually, you still have the host‘s mind hidden underneath the energy. And if you‘re fast enough, you can exorcise the possessor before too much of the soul is burnt away,“ he explained.

„But for her assistant it was too late?“

„Time‘s irrelevant when possessed by a banshee,“ Dom answered. „You‘re gone the moment it enters your body.“

„What did you do?“

Matthew chuckled. „You saw her head yesternight.“

Gareth stared wide-eyed at Matthew and then turned his head to gape at Dom. „You…“

„Only way to kill a banshee while she‘s adapting to the new body,“ Dom answered.

Gareth swallowed. „What would have happened if she had adapted to the new body already?“

„She‘d have used it for centuries to come to follow her family and announce and weep the impeding deaths of the members,“ Dom answered, shrugging.

„She would have killed members of a cursed family?“

„No, she just would have sat underneath the window and would have howled the night before one of them dies.“

„So the woman possessed by the banshee was already gone, but the banshee itself didn‘t pose any threats?“

„She killed half of Virginia‘s team and would have possessed a new human body after another century,“ Dom answered. „I‘d call that a threat.“

Gareth looked down at his plate. „Virginia mentioned someone else yesterday,“ he eventually said.

„Yakov,“ Dom said and nodded. „He‘s a smuggler.“

„Who specialises in cult items of any era,“ Matthew added cheerfully. „You can imagine why Virginia isn‘t too keen on him.“

Dom nodded. „His assistant was possessed by an angel and started to nag the poor man to change his life style.“

„And you beheaded the angel,“ Gareth whispered.

„No, as a matter of fact, it was Michael who had possessed Yakov‘s assistant because he didn‘t approve of Yakov selling a certain relict,“ Dom answered. „He got away.“

„Which relict?“

„A charm to help summoning familiars,“ Dom answered and reclined, turning his head to grin at Matthew.

The angel grimaced.

„Anyway, you‘ve now got a fair insight on this house‘s occupants and how things are,“ Dom said and leant forward, looking straight at Gareth. „Do you wish to stay or do you wish to move out?“

„I…“ Gareth started and glanced at Matthew. The seraph leant forward, licking his lips. „I‘d like to stay,“ Gareth said eventually.

„Splendid.“ Dom grinned and directed his attention to his breakfast again.

„Are you called to an exorcism often?“

„Usually once a week,“ Dom answered while chewing. „Sometimes more often, sometimes only once a month.“

„Can I… could I…“

„You want to watch?“ Matthew laughed. „Do you think you can stomach that? People come to us because everything else failed because, apparently, our methods are too violent for modern times.“

„I‘m curious,“ Gareth mumbled.

„Be careful, curiosity can burn you,“ Matthew drawled. He rose from his chair and was gone when Gareth looked up. Instead he saw a huge black dog walking out of the room, a red ring on his head and red marks above his hips.

„He can turn into a dog, too?“ Gareth asked.

„Yeah, seraphim can turn into birds and dogs,“ Dom answered. „Usually it‘s white doves and white shepherd‘s dogs, though.“

 

 

A few hours later, a knock came on the door to Gareth‘s room. He looked up and frowned.

„Yeah?“

Dom pushed the door open and poked his head inside, grinning widely. „Do you have anything planned for today?“

„No, why?“

„You said you wanted to see an exorcism,“ Dom said and pushed the door further open to lean against the door frame.

Gareth nodded.

„Come on then, Yakov called,“ Dom chuckled. „Apparently, he‘s in trouble with a demon and the police.“

„The police,“ Gareth repeated and ran after Dom.

„Yep, seems they accused him of some kind of murder.“

„And he‘s innocent?“

„I believe so. He‘s a smuggler with a little, filthy mind, but he lacks the backbone to actually kill someone,“ Dom answered and grabbed his coat.

„Aren‘t you going to take any weapons?“

„To the police station?“ Dom squinted at Gareth, one eyebrow raised in mocking. „If I‘ve learnt one thing in past years, it‘s not to take an axe into a police station unless at least the chief knows you.“  



	4. Chapter Three — Denn du bist, was du ißt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn about how Dom and Matthew earn their living

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter‘s title is nicked from Rammstein‘s Mein Teil. Ist‘s a bit of an pun on a pun. Man ist was man ißt = You are what you eat (generic you, not refering to a certain person). Denn bist, was du ißt means: Because you are what you eat, directly adressing a person. Phew, languages sure are a lot of fun. XD

„Now, tell me why I should let you talk to my prime suspect?“ Inspector Adkison snarled. He sat on a desk opposite a small, bony man with brunet curls. The other occupant of the room grinned up at Dom, waving cheerfully. Gareth suspected this was Yakov.

„Because it‘s the fastest and easiest way to solve your case?“ Dom answered, smiling at the inspector and ignoring Yakov.

Adkison narrowed his eyes at him. „You‘re this Howard guy I keep hearing about, that exorcist.“

Dom sighed and nodded. „Yeah.“

Adkison frowned at Gareth before returning his attention to Dom. „I‘m doing proper police work here. There‘s no hocuspocus in my police station and you surely won‘t get recognition and fame here.“

Dom sighed again, heavily. „Listen, I don‘t care for recognition and fame. All I want is money to pay my food and bills and be over and done with this. You can have all the recognition yourself, write whatever you want in your report, paint yourself as a mighty hero or warrior for all I care.“

„And who do you think will pay you?“ Adkison snapped.

Dom looked at Yakov and grinned. „Oh, I‘m sure dear Yakov will be willing to fork out a special bonus for his freedom and my inconvenience.“

Yakov‘s broad smile fell and he groaned. Dom turned back to Adkison. „This is the homicide department, and we both know that while Yakov is a sleazy weasel, he‘s not able to kill someone. And whatever murders, it‘s got to be bad enough if we‘re called. So why don‘t we just get over this whole drumming on our chests and overawing and you fill me in?“

Adkison frowned. „You meant what you said about recognition?“

Dom nodded. „Yeah, I‘ve got fame enough. I could do without it, actually. As I said, I just want the money.“ He smiled broadly. „You‘ve got nothing to lose.“

Adkison sighed and nodded towards Gareth. „Fine, but who‘s he?“

Gareth swallowed and extended his hand. „Gareth Brennan, I‘m… uhm,“ he paused and glanced at Dom, letting his hand fall down again.

„He‘s with me,“ Dom answered, still smiling.

„You‘re the new guy,“ Yakov chuckled. „Curious who you‘re living with, eh?“

Gareth nodded and blushed.

„I bet Matthew likes you.“

Gareth‘s blush deepened. „Has he ever… you know… with you?“ He motioned weakly with his hands and let them fall into his lap again.

Laughing, Yakov shook his head. „He thinks I‘m a sleazy, filthy, lowly crook, not worth of his attention. But you,“ he crooned, „you‘re so sweet and innocent. I bet he‘s all over you.“

„Including wanking at the breakfast table,“ Dom muttered.

Yakov laughed again. „Did you let him leave the bedroom unsatisfied?“

„Believe me,“ Dom snorted, „that‘s a mistake I won‘t be making again in quite some time.“

„Could we please return to the matter at hand?“ Adkison snapped.

Dom turned back to the inspector and nodded. He pulled the folder that Adkison had shoved forward closer and peeked inside. He quickly read over the reports and glanced at the photos of corpses and details. Most victims had limbs missing that had been found several yards from the bodies, the flesh and tendons removed almost completely from the bones.

„As if they were chewed off,“ Dom muttered and picked one photo for closer inspection. „Blunt teeth, which rules out most of the usual suspects.“

He glanced at Gareth for a moment. The other man was staring at the table, face pale and hands clenched. Dom bit back a chuckle and turned to Yakov. „What have you been tinkering with this time?“

„I purchased an Innu tea doll from a friend from Labrador,“ Yakov explained. „So I examined it to establish the age and well…“

„Well?“

„Turns out it is about 400 years old and had been used to lock something away.“

Dom rolled his eyes. „That‘s what Innu dolls are made for. Get to the fucking point, Yakov.“

Yakov swallowed and shifted on his seat. „I think I accidentally set a wendigo free.“

„You should know better than to call us because of a wendigo,“ Dom groaned and slumped against his backrest.

„I‘ll get him a year‘s worth of sponge cake, but please help me,“ Yakov begged.

Dom sighed. „I‘ll hold you to that.“

„What‘s a wendigo?“ Gareth asked.

Dom flipped the photo he held around for Gareth to see. The split second it took for Gareth to avert his eyes was enough to burn the image of a bone with only a few lumps of flesh into his brain for eternity.

„Some indigenous peoples of America had problems during famines. Sometimes, one of them would cave and instead of resigning themselves to starving or committing suicide, they would eat the flesh of their dead friends and family. Of course, it soon wasn‘t enough to just devour the rotting remnants of humans, the craving for fresh flesh started. Eventually, it would grow too intense to fight and the wendigo started killing their own people and feasting on them.“

Gareth nodded.

„Usually, they were killed, often before they even could become a wendigo, but sometimes, it was too late. And once the wendigo has actually killed for the first time, its strength grows too strong to kill easily. And they‘ve got hearts of ice, so the only thing that really effectively kills them is setting them on fire. On rare occasions though, the only way to save the group was to extract the spirit from the body and seal it away.“

„Do you expect me to believe this bullshit?“ Adkison shouted.

„I don‘t care what you choose to believe, just let me do my work.“

Adkison snorted. „And you think I‘d let you go about unsupervised?“

Dom shrugged and rose from his chair. „I didn‘t expect you to. Just make sure we can move freely and don‘t stand in the way.“

„And you want to fight some kind of supernatural beast that kills men of far stronger build than you?“ Adkison snorted and shoved one of the photos of the victims towards Dom.

Dom glanced down at the image of a muscular man in his mid-twenties and looked up at Adkison again. He grinned. „There‘s more to battling than pure muscle. If you‘ll allow it, I‘d like to go home, get prepared and go hunting.“ He pointed at the folder. „Can I take the file?“

„Of course you can‘t,“ Adkison snarled. „And you‘re not going alone.“ He rose to his feet and walked to the door, calling for a few detectives to return Yakov to his cell. Adkison turned back to Dom, who stood with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

„I presume you want to accompany us?“

„Yes, wait in this room,“ Adkison ordered and left.

Dom sighed and rolled his eyes. He turned his attention to Gareth. „What do you think so far?“

„I…“ Gareth started. „I don‘t know. Those photos…“ he gesticulated weakly. „This creature is violent.“

„Many are,“ Dom answered. „You can still say you don‘t want to participate. You even have the option to forget everything about this.“

Gareth shook his head. „No, I think I want to see what this world is like.“

Dom nodded.

„I always believed in angels,“ Gareth continued. „And now that I actually know one, I really want to learn more. I want to know what they‘re really like.“

„Even if everything you believed in might be proven wrong?“

Gareth frowned, but nodded. „Yeah…“

„Very well,“ Dom said. He grinned. „Are you good with any weapons?“

Gareth swallowed and stared wide-eyed at Dom. „No…“

„You better get acquainted with a weapon of your choice in this case,“ Dom answered. „I‘d suggest a firearm since those require the least practise if you want to cause any damage.“

Gareth nodded weakly just when the door opened again.

„Let‘s go,“ Adkison growled and led the way out of the building and to his car.

 

 

About half an hour later, they pulled up at the doorway to Dom‘s house. Gareth looked out of the car window while Adkison parked the vehicle.

The windows of the old house were dark and Gareth wondered if Matthew was actually inside. What could the angel be doing alone and on his own? He blushed when he imagined slender arms and shoulders moving in a steady rhythm, a pale hand wrapped around a part of the angel‘s anatomy that Gareth always tried to avoid looking at.

He shook his head and sped up to slip into the house after Adkison. Gareth closed the door behind himself and looked around, trying and failing to find a trace of Matthew. Wherever and in whatever form the angel was, he didn‘t show himself. Gareth wondered if he could dematerialise completely.

He and Adkison followed Dom upstairs and into one of the rooms that Gareth had only peeked into so far. He remembered seeing axes lined on the wall and chests and heavy wardrobes lining the axe-free walls.

„And how do you want to fight against this _thing_?“ Adkison just asked.

Dom shrugged out of his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head. He fumbled with the belt and let his trousers fall to the floor, stepping out of them carelessly before opening one of the wardrobes. „Drop a few nasty surprises on it and burn it.“ He stretched for something on the highest shelf and Gareth noticed the lines of black runes starting from Dom‘s armpits until they disappeared beneath his waist band and returned from underneath his briefs to run down to Dom‘s ankles.

„Are those real tattoos?“ Gareth asked.

Dom twisted and glanced down at one side. „Yeah,“ he answered and stretched again until he had pulled a large bag from the shelf. „Old spells, they‘re quite handy.“ He looked up at Adkison, who had snorted.

„You‘ll soon think differently,“ he said. He sat down on the floor and lifted the bag, spilling the contents on the floor.

Gareth squinted at the heap that seemed to be made of linen, leather and chain mail.

„The more I see in this house, the more I‘m convinced it‘d be a good idea to lock you away,“ Adkison stated.

Dom ignored him and extracted a light linen shirt from the heap. He sniffed at it and rolled his eyes, sighing, before reaching for trousers made of heavy leather.

„The chain mail,“ a voice came from the door. „Seems there‘s some serious fighting coming up.“

„Yeah,“ Dom answered without looking up and wiggled into the trousers.

„Donar getting out his battle attire always makes me indescribably hot,“ Matthew drawled into Gareth‘s ear.

„What?“ Adkison shouted and leapt away from Matthew, staring at the naked angel and at the six black wings, his eyes eventually settled on the red halo. „ _What_ are you?“

„You‘re a rude man, Randale Adkison,“ Matthew growled.

„How do you know my name?“ Adkison asked. He swallowed and took another step backwards when Matthew opened the eyes in his wings and fixated them on the officer.

„I‘m a fucking seraph, of course I know the bloody names of the people I‘m talking to,“ Matthew snarled.

„That‘s impossible,“ Adkison stumbled. His eyes remained trained on Matthew while the seraph sauntered through the room and knelt down in front of Dom. He played with the chain mail, lifting it up and holding it against the light of the window.

„What are we hunting?“

Dom sniggered. He had slipped into the light linen shirt and was just pulling the long leather tunic over his head. He took the chain mail from Matthew‘s hands to wiggle inside, rolling his shoulders to get used to the weight provided by the metal rings.

„You‘ll love it,“ he purred against Matthew‘s lips, mocking a bite. „A wendigo.“

„A _what_?“ Matthew hissed and jumped to his feet. „You‘ve got to be kidding me! Those shits stink like hell!“

„Yakov will get you a year‘s worth of sponge cakes,“ Dom said, completely unfazed by Matthew‘s outburst and the staring eyes. He reached for a pair of heavy boots and slipped them on, lacing the long shafts up.

Matthew frowned. „Really?“

„He promised to.“

„He‘d better keep this promise,“ Matthew growled. „Will he fund the sponge cakes over a year, or do I get them all at once?“

Dom rolled his eyes and rose to his feet, jumping on the spot to get used to his clothes. „We haven‘t specified that yet.“

„You should have,“ Matthew retorted and crossed his arms. „I want them all at once. If he‘s going to fund them over the course of a year, there‘s nothing to gain for me. It‘d be only you saving money.“

„And here‘s Gula again.“

„He‘s an angel?“ Adkison whispered.

„He‘s a seraph,“ Gareth answered and smiled. He knew he should be wary around Matthew, but Matthew was an angel, a seraph nonetheless. He emanated beauty and purity, even if the latter was something that Matthew aimed to destroy for good. Maybe Gareth should have taken the offer to leave while he still could and remain blissfully unaware of how sinful an angel could be.

„What‘s a seraph?“ Adkison asked.

„I‘m of the highest ranks amongst angels,“ Matthew hissed. „There are five seraphim and above them is only _God_.“

„And why are you on earth, hunting little creatures and not up there living a jolly good life with your other angel chums?“ Adkison retorted. He stared at Matthew‘s face, trying to ignore the furious eyes that were glaring at him from six wings.

„Heaven is boring and those angels are arse-licking, stupid twats who pine for something they could never get.“

„He‘s repenting for his sins,“ Dom answered. „Well, originally, that was the plan, but Matthew‘s not much of the repenting type.“

„I never repent for any sins,“ Matthew stated, grinning smugly. „That‘s why I keep committing them.“

Dom rolled his eyes and walked over to another wardrobe. „Which should I take?“

„Take the pure angel and the rotten demon,“ Matthew answered.

„I don‘t think that‘d be a wise idea,“ Dom retorted and frowned at the two shrunken heads he held in his hands. „They react a bit too strongly to each other.“

„But they‘re effective.“

Dom lifted his head and squinted at Matthew. „You just hope I‘ll blow myself and the wendigo up to smithereens.“

„Less to do for me.“

„You could actually work for your sponge cakes for a change,“ Dom retorted, putting the dark head back into the wardrobe and retrieving another head, not less ugly, but instead it was of a dull red instead of black, no hair on the top of it and brown teeth poking through the dry lips. He attached the heads to his belt and turned back to the seraph.

„I‘ll have to do the burning, remember?“ Matthew hissed.

„Of course, and you will do any fighting to weaken the wendigo, will you?“

„That‘s your job,“ Matthew deadpanned and walked to the wardrobe that Dom had retrieved his attire from. He picked up a simple metal helmet and spun it on his left hand. „Don‘t forget your helmet, honey,“ he purred.

„I almost thought you‘d pull out a proper Viking helmet,“ Gareth chuckled.

Dom turned his head and narrowed his eyes at Gareth. „What do you mean?“ he asked, his hand hovering over the helmet on Matthew‘s hand. „A proper Viking helmet?“

Gareth swallowed and gesticulated. „Well, you know, with horns and all that…“

„Vikings never had horns on their helmets,“ Dom hissed. „I don‘t know where this stupid idea came from.“

„Well,“ Gareth stuttered. He swallowed again. Somehow, he had the feeling he was treading on very thin ice and it didn‘t feel as if he was close to any secure land yet. „A people that believes they‘re going to dine and fight forever in heaven, invades other countries by force and comes in dragon boats… If they‘re not predestined to wear horns on their helmets, I don‘t know which people is.“

Matthew sniggered while Dom stared at Gareth, emanating icy silence.

„Have I said something wrong?“

„You just aren‘t aware of a very tiny, but very vital detail,“ Matthew chuckled.

„What?“ Gareth asked and glanced at Dom who put the helmet onto his head and picked an axe from the wall.

„I was born 775 A.D. in a settlement close to where Egersund came into being,“ Dom stated. „I set foot on the British Isles for the very first time on the 8th June of 793 in Lindisfarne. If you know your history dates a bit better than Viking fashion, you‘ll know what that date marks.“

Gareth blinked, ignoring Adkison‘s snort, and glanced at Matthew. Should he really believe Dom was this, well, _ancient_?

„It‘s true, I was there,“ Matthew said. He chuckled again, his wings fluttering gently. „Was a lot of fun. I miss raiding monasteries.“

„An angel raiding monasteries?“ Adkison asked. „I can see why they didn‘t want you up there any more.“

Matthew glanced at Adkison and rolled his eyes before turning back to Dom again. „You‘re not going to bring its head back, though.“

„Of course I will,“ Dom retorted and swayed the axe in his hands.

„You won‘t,“ Matthew hissed. „I hate those things. Even their severed heads stink like the ninth circle of hell. You won‘t bring one of those into my house.“

„Last time I checked, this house was owned by me,“ Dom hissed.

„Without me, you wouldn‘t even have managed to acquire a house,“ Matthew snarled and spread his wings, eyes focussing on Dom.

Dom snorted. „Yeah, without you, I‘d long since be in Valhalla.“

„Do you want to go there, Donar?“ Matthew shouted and a red glow spread over his wings. „I can send you to good old Odin‘s hut.“

„Don‘t you dare burn down another house of mine!“ Dom roared and rushed forward, hitting the handle of his axe against Matthew‘s temple.

The seraph stumbled backwards. Another shove with the axe handle against his chest and he was lying on the floor, Dom kneeling above him.

„Get. Off. My. Wings,“ Matthew hissed.

Dom chuckled and shifted his knees further onto Matthew‘s wings, forcing the seraph to hide his eyes away. Dom bent down, the blade of his bearded axe resting just a whisper next to Matthew‘s ear.

„Stop acting like a spoilt brat, Matthew,“ Dom hissed into Matthew‘s ear. „I told you before, I won‘t have any of such behaviour.“

Matthew growled and made to bite Dom‘s ear, but the human pulled his head away just in time. He fisted his hand in Matthew‘s hair and pulled the head back.

„You better come when I call you,“ Dom hissed at the staring angel.

Matthew just pouted and crossed his arms when Dom rose to his feet. He glared at Dom, following his way to the door and eventually muttered, „You better make sure I get my reward.“

Rolling his eyes, Dom beckoned Gareth and Adkison to follow him with a jerk of his head. „Where did those murders occur?“

„At the harbour,“ Adkison answered.

„Of course,“ Dom sighed. „They love the smell of dirty water and the supplies that all those daily arriving ships can provide.“

„Isn‘t Matthew coming with us?“ Gareth asked and looked back at the room they‘d just left.

Dom laughed. „You really want to ask him to stay in the vicinity of a wendigo for a second more than necessary? He really hates those things.“

„I was just thinking…“

„I can deal with that thing on my own, he‘s only needed to deliver the final stroke,“ Dom shrugged. They passed the coat stand and he collected his long coat and slipped inside, pulling the hood over his head and covering most of his battle attire. „I‘ll summon him when it‘s time.“

 

 

About an hour later, they had reached the harbour and stepped out of Adkison‘s car.

„So, how do you want to find the big, bad monster, oh great exorcist?“ he asked.

Dom shrugged out of his coat and tied the axe to his back before plucking the demon head from his belt. „Like this,“ he said. He lifted the head by its hair and whispered something into its ear. A strange, gurgled sound escaped the head and it blinked, green, dead eyes looking left and right.

Dom chuckled. „No need to try and find a way out,“ he told the head. „You‘re my loot now, remember?“

The head growled, „Donar.“

„Ays,“ Dom returned the greeting, cheerfully. „I was wondering, could you assist me in a little search on this fine day?“

„Do I have any choice?“ Ays growled.

„What kind of cheap trickery is this?“ Adkison shouted, pointing at the head in Dom‘s hands.

Ays squinted sideways, glaring as good as possible from his position at the inspector. „Excuse me? I used to be a mighty demon. I possessed many a human and drove them to madness and suicide.“

„Stop gloating, the poor man just met Matthew for the first time,“ Dom said and moved his wrist, causing the head to swing around.

Ays giggled. „Poor man indeed. Bet our little seraph left quite an impression.“ He sighed, „So, what makes you wake me from my slumber?“

„Find the wendigo,“ Dom ordered, all smiles and giggles gone from his demeanour.

„A wendigo,“ Ays giggled. „That‘s why I don‘t see that mangy crow flying around.“

„You better hope that I never tell him what you just called him.“

Still giggling, Ays sniffed. „Aah, keep me steady, each time I find something that could be a trace that bloody wind turns me around,“ he cursed.

Rolling his eyes, Dom tossed the head into Gareth‘s hands. Swallowing, Gareth stared down at the ugly grimace, making sure his fingers where nowhere close to those disgusting, yellow teeth.

„Lift him to chest height and slowly turn until he tells you to stop.“

Gareth nodded and lifted Ays‘ head higher, starting to slowly shift around. After the third turn, he wondered if the demon in his hands wasn‘t playing with him. Ays was sniffing and humming, mumbling something in a strange and long since forgotten language, but showed no sign of finding an interesting trace.

Dom growled, picked the angel‘s head from his belt and pushed it in front of Ays‘ face. „Stop procrastinating, or you‘ll get an angel‘s kiss,“ he snarled.

Ays stared wide-eyed at the face in front of him. „Turn two steps left again,“ he muttered weakly.

Gareth obeyed and glanced down. The demon was still staring at the head in Dom‘s hands.

„It‘s coming the strongest from this direction,“ Ays said.

Dom nodded and attached the angel‘s head to his belt again. He nodded into the direction Ays had pointed out. „Lead the way.“

They followed Ays‘ directions for a while, Adkison mumbling under his breath.

„If you think this is all just trickery and nonsense, why don‘t you just carry Ays for a while?“ Dom asked eventually.

Adkison looked at the demon and back at Dom. He shook his head. „I‘d rather keep my hands free. Right now I‘m not sure about who‘s the biggest danger around.“

„It should be in this warehouse,“ Ays announced.

They stopped in front of the metal door and looked up.

„Of course,“ Dom sighed. „Why couldn‘t it just hide in a small tun or in some niche between two houses? Or just somewhere new and surprising for a change.“

„Those wendigos were never really smart nor were they creative,“ Ays said. He squinted at Dom. „My work‘s done here now, isn‘t it? Can I go back to sleep again?“

„Honestly, why are all you demons and angels so fucking lazy?“ Dom asked and reached for the head, pulling it out of Gareth‘s hands, who hurriedly wiped them over his jacket.

Dom lifted the head and whispered something into Ays‘ ear and the eyes feel shut again. After reattaching Ays to his belt, Dom unhooked his axe from its place on his back and carefully pushed the door open.

„One would think the workers lock their doors,“ Gareth muttered.

„If it was locked, the wendigo couldn‘t get in either,“ Dom shrugged. „Guess it‘s an old building that‘s not really in use any more.“

He pushed the door further open and scrunched up his nose. „Gah, I hate wendigos.“

Hesitantly, Gareth shifted closer. He coughed and retreated immediately when he noticed the smell coming from within. He leant next to the door and turned his face away from the gap in the door, gulping down the relatively fresh air of backwater, gutted fish and motor oil. Next to Dom, he heard Adkison retch.

„What in every hell stinks that much?“ the inspector wheezed.

„A creature that feasts on rotten corpses and on its own kind,“ Dom answered. He closed the door again and leant against it. „I can‘t leave the doors open lest it escapes, but there‘s no way I‘m closing off the only supply of oxygen when going in there.“

„And if we wait for it to come out?“

Dom looked at Gareth, one eyebrow raised. „They might not be smart, but they‘re not that stupid. It knows that we‘re here, so it won‘t come out for quite some time.“ He sighed and looked down, his eyes catching on the two heads on his belt. Slowly, a smirk spread over his face.

„I know what to do,“ he sniggered. He reached down and freed the angel‘s head from his belt, lifting it to whisper in its ear as he had done with Ays.

The angel blinked and blue eyes alighted on Dom. „Donar,“ a silken, female voice said, tone reproachful.

„Gloria,“ Dom smiled at her. „Before we start on this whole debate about justified possession, I need you to clear some stale air.“

Gloria glowered at Dom, but remained silent; smiling sweetly, he turned and opened the door again. He looked at Gareth and Adkison, grinning. „You coming?“

Gareth nodded and cautiously followed Dom inside, Adkison right after him. He could see the head of the angel glowing and hesitantly lifted his hand from his nose and mouth. Surprised, he drew another breath.

Winking at Gareth, Dom attached Gloria‘s head to his belt again.

„You don‘t plan on keeping me like this during fighting?“ Gloria asked.

„Of course I plan to,“ Dom answered, not even bothering to look down. He stood in the middle of the empty hall, scanning his surroundings and axe raised. „I need both hands for fighting and I need you to clean the air.“

Gloria pouted and glanced at Gareth. „You‘re new,“ she said. „And you‘re not spoilt yet. Why do you stick around? You‘ll only get your soul besmirched by that rotten seraph.“

„Shut up, Gloria,“ Dom sighed. He narrowed his eyes at a pile of wooden stillages. „There you are,“ he purred. He turned his head, hissing at Gareth and Adkison to stay where they were and slowly moved towards the pile.

A shrill scream sounded from behind it and a creature jumped on the pile, causing the rotting stillages to slide and tumble. Before the pile was scattered over the floor, it had jumped away, Dom running after the black creature.

„Stay, you foul beast!“ Dom bellowed, but the wendigo jumped onto a box and onto the only container left in the building. Growling, Dom crept along its side, axe resting on his shoulder.

The wendigo peeked over the rim, cackling at Dom. Gareth noticed that the creature hadn‘t any hair left, its skin sunken and blackened, eyes white. He saw its black claws gashing into the edge of the container and piercing through the metal.

Dom sneered up. „That all you can offer?“ he mocked it. „Scratching some metal?“ He dashed his axe against the side of the container, cutting the metal. „That‘s a proper scratch, not the little holes you‘re making up there.“

The wendigo screeched.

„I‘ve got all the time in the world,“ Dom answered, cheerfully. „Stay up there and starve for all that I care.“

The wendigo screeched again and retreated. Flexing his shoulders, Dom pressed his back against the metal of the container and held his axe before his chest. Only a few moments later, the wendigo shot over the rim and landed between Dom and Gareth and Adkison. He quickly glanced at Dom before setting off for the other two men.

„I am here, you bastard,“ Dom roared and dashed forward, throwing his axe and sending it flying towards the attacking wendigo. The weapon went right through the midriff and buried itself in the concrete in front of the wendigo, not harming the beast. It stopped and turned around, baring its yellow teeth at Dom.

„Get out of the way,“ Dom shouted at Gareth and Adkison while fingering his necklace out from his layers of clothing. He grabbed the black miniature of a man. „Come on, Matthew.“

Screaming shrilly, the wendigo turned and seized the axe, pulling it from the ground with ease and waving it in a circle with one hand. The demon slowly advanced on Dom, who retreated carefully.

„He‘s not coming,“ Gloria cried, staring at the advancing demon. „You should know better than to trust the fallen seraph this much.“

Dom glanced down. „Shut up.“ He took another step backwards and hit the container with his back, tightening his hold on the little man on his necklace. „Matthew, get your fucking ass over here,“ he shouted.

Giggling, the wendigo raised the axe and let it fall to the ground, damaging the old concrete. Dom winced. „My axe, what are you doing to my axe?“

The wendigo giggled and took another step towards Dom, raising the axe above its head just when a blank feather softly floated down in front of his face. It blinked sheepishly at the feather, watching it sink closer to the floor.

Frowning, the wendigo looked up again, yelping when his eyes rose above the container.

„You‘re quite slow on the uptake,“ Matthew sneered. He was floating above the container, wings moving lazily and eyes still closed. He sank to the floor, feet hitting the concrete gently. He hummed and the wendigo cocked its head, letting the axe sink to the floor again.

Spreading his wings, Matthew opened the eyes in them widely and fixed them on the creature that stood motionless before him. The wings fluttered softly and a red glow spread from Matthew‘s halo and the marks on his hips, eventually engulfing the seraph‘s body.

Matthew lifted his arms in front of himself, palms pressed together. With a smirk, he moved his arms, spreading them in a quick gesture, and the red glow that had surrounded his body concentrated on the wings.

„Burn,“ Matthew said and brought his wings forward, unleashing an explosion of light that shot towards the screaming wendigo.

When Gareth opened his eyes again, he found Matthew cowering in front of a heap of ashes and a slightly burnt axe. His wings were hanging limply behind him.

Dom walked towards the seraph, reattaching Gloria‘s head to his belt after putting her to sleep again. He stopped next to Matthew and picked up his axe again, turning it around in his hands. He narrowed his eyes at Matthew.

„You were late.“

Matthew looked up and giggled. „I was right on time.“

Dom growled and grabbed Matthew‘s hair, yanking his head backwards. „You almost burnt my favourite axe,“ he spat into the angel‘s face and shoved his head forward again before letting it go.

Growling, Matthew rose to his feet. „You could have dealt with this shit on your own.“

„So could you have,“ Dom retorted. He walked towards Gareth and Adkison, not looking back at Matthew. „There really was no need to exhaust yourself like that.“

„You don‘t know what you want, do you?“ Matthew snarled. „Either I‘m not putting enough effort into it, or I‘m overdoing it.“

Dom stopped and turned around, coming face to face with Matthew. „I know what I want,“ he snapped. „I want you to be reliable and come when I summon you.“

„I always come when you call me, don‘t I?“

„Yes, but only after I call you at least twice. Would it be too much to ask of you to come at the first call?“

„Yes, it would.“

„Oh, I forgot, you‘re this amazing seraph, you need to make a point. Can‘t have the world thinking that you‘re yielding to the commands of a simple piece of wood.“

„Guys,“ Gareth called out, hesitantly, „I don‘t want to disturb you, but maybe we should move somewhere else?“

Dom and Matthew turned their heads to look at Gareth, who cowered slightly.

„Right,“ Dom said and turned towards the two men again. He addressed Adkison, „That‘s your case wrapped up and closed, make of it whatever you want as long as you drive us home.“

 

 

Another hour later, Gareth, Dom and Matthew sat in the living room. Gareth was sipping on his glass of mead and watching Matthew. The seraph sat on the couch, a jar of honey held between his feet and a big spoon in his hand. He just pushed a spoon full of honey into his mouth and reached for the bottle of mead.

He gulped down half of it and squinted at the bottle, giving it an experimental stir and sighing.

„You just wanted to get an excuse for getting drunk when going into overkill,“ Dom said and placed a full bottle of mead on the table.

Chuckling, Matthew watched him sitting down on the other side of the couch and pushed his feet onto Dom‘s lap. „You know that I don‘t get drunk on mead.“

He plunged his index finger into the honey and lifted it to drag the sticky mass over Dom‘s nose.

„But I need the energy,“ he purred and licked over Dom‘s nose.

Dom lifted his hand into Matthew‘s hair and pulled his head back. „I think you‘ve got enough energy already.“

„Only one way to lessen it again,“ Matthew sniggered. He turned and smirked at Gareth on the other side of the table. „Are you interested?“

Gareth blushed and averted his eyes, shaking his head. Eventually, he looked at Dom.

„So you‘ve been together for centuries,“ he stated.

Dom nodded. „Since 791AD.“

„And you still haven‘t killed each other,“ Gareth muttered.

Matthew laughed and left his place on the couch, sitting perched on Gareth‘s lap with a second. „We can‘t kill each other,“ he crooned into Gareth‘s ear. „Else we wouldn‘t even have made it to Lindisfarne.“

„Have you never tried to get along?“

Dom and Matthew were silent before erupting in laughter.

„You‘re sweet,“ Matthew purred against Gareth‘s mouth and pressed their lips together.

Staring wide-eyed at the seraph, Gareth flexed his hands above Matthew‘s shoulders and arms, unsure if he could touch. He mumbled into the kiss when Matthew lifted his hands to grab Gareth‘s and led them towards his abdomen.

„What? No!“ Gareth shouted and yanked his hands free, breaking the kiss and shoving the laughing seraph backwards.

„You liked it,“ Matthew purred and pointed at Gareth‘s crotch.

Blushing violently, Gareth crossed his legs and shifted further into the armchair. Still laughing, Matthew rose to his feet and grabbed the half-emptied bottle of mead. He lifted it to his lips and threw his head back to gulp down the remnants of the beverage, giving Gareth a good view of his throat.

Gareth swallowed dryly and licked his lips before averting his eyes towards Dom.

„But why are you together if you can‘t stand each other? Is there something binding you?“

Sighing, Dom reached for the full bottle of mead and refilled his glass before reclining again. „That story you want to hear.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [In case you need to know about Lindisfarne, 793. XD](http://youtu.be/hwaSSVOPwSE)  
>  Can't express my love for that show enough.


	5. Krummavisur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Peek into the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn‘t screw up the descriptions of a whole civilisation here. But alas, I had only my phone internet for research at that‘s a bit… tiresome. So I made up a lot, hoping it‘d be kinda close to what that live could have been like. Sorry if I got all or much of it wrong. :/
> 
> Also, this chapter‘s name is an Icelandic song, best translated as „Raven‘s Song“ I think. Actually, it had been one of my favourite choices for a certain vampire story, but since there are hardly any ravens in the vampire story… But yeah, finally, finally, I can use this song as a chapter name and it fits. heehee

Donar looked out of the door of his hut and frowned. A raven was sitting on the sill, a red ring on its head and white stripes on the wings. The bird cocked its head and stared at Donar.

The young Viking frowned and took one of the knives lying on one of the chests. Before he could throw it, though, the bird had taken off and was gone. Shaking his head, Donar put the knife down again and crossed the room. He knelt down to open a heavy chest and retrieved a heavy leather tunic, helmet and a bearded axe from it.

After slipping into the tunic and putting his helmet on, he picked up the axe and gave it a swing, smiling at the weight and the feeling of power the weapon gave him. He might have been one of the youngest warriors in this settlement, but he already was widely known for his skills with the bearded axe, the skeggöx.

And today would steel his fame with the bulky weapon even more. He attached it to its holster on his back and picked up the round shield from the wall. Those _warriors_ from the neighbouring village wouldn‘t stand a chance against him. Donar left his small house and turned towards the long house of his friend.

Kvigbjörn Úlfarson was the chief‘s son and a master of the long sword, his skills with his weapon of choice rivalling Donar‘s with the skeggöx. Indeed, it had been Donar‘s praised skills that had made their friendship possible, his ancestry from peasants traditionally predetermining him to a life as a peasant under Úlfr‘s and later Kvigbjörn‘s reign.

But Úlfr had heard about Donar‘s talent and had come to witness Donar‘s skills. He had offered to raise Donar as his own and have him in charge of a selection of his men if the young Viking could survive ten minutes against his strongest warrior.

Donar smirked proudly when he remembered that fateful day a year ago. He had not only survived, he had destroyed the other‘s shield and skeggöx within five minutes.

From then on, Donar lived in the small hut next to Úlfr‘s long house and practised his weaponry with the axe that Úlfr had given to him as a gift in return for Donar‘s loyalty, and learned together with Kvigbjörn how to become a respected and wise leader.

Donar had reached the door to the family‘s abode and sat down next to it to wait for his friend. His eyes fell on a raven that sat on one of the trees opposite the house. He squinted. Donar wasn‘t sure from this distance, but he thought he recognised a red ring and white stripes on the raven.

He turned his head when the door was opened and he recognised Úlfr‘s wife, Irmendrut. Hurriedly, he jumped to his feet and removed his helmet, bending his head in greeting.

„Donar,“ Irmendrut said and smiled. „My son shall be with you in a moment.“

„Thank you,“ he answered and glanced at the trees. The raven had gone.

Irmendrut nodded and turned, leaving the door open while she went inside again. Donar heard her calling for her son and only a few moments later, Kvigbjörn appeared in the door, grinning widely, his wild locks pouring out from underneath his helmet.

„Donar Wælhrafnson,“ Kvigbjörn greeted his friend, slapping the smaller Viking on his shoulders. „Are you ready for the traditional battle with the other villages?“

Donar grinned broadly. „Of course. What about you? Feeling ready to chop a few limps off?“

Kvigbjörn laughed and led the way. „You know me, always ready for a fine fight. Do you know this year‘s trophy?“

Donar shook his head. „I never cared for those, as you know.“

„Adallfinna Geirssdóttir shall marry the most victorious man.“

Donar glanced at his beaming friend. „You want to win, eh?“ He laughed when Kvigbjörn blushed.

„She is a woman of virtue and beauty.“

„Kvigbjörn Úlfarson, do you want to found your own family?“ Donar teased his friend.

„Well, yes,“ Kvigbjörn answered. He looked at his friend. „You‘re only 16, you‘re still young,“ he said, „but I‘m already 18, it‘s time to start thinking about my legacy and what I want to leave behind.“

Donar nodded. „There‘ll be just one problem,“ he pointed out.

Kvigbjörn stopped in his tracks and frowned. „Which one? We‘re the best warriors around. No one would stand a chance against us.“

Donar grinned. „Exactly, and I‘m better than you.“

Kvigbjörn‘s face fell. He looked around; when he found that they were alone he looked back at Donar. „Seems I‘ll have to look for another wife.“

Donar shrugged. „You know, I don‘t care for binding myself yet, this prize is nothing but inconvenient to me at this point of time.“

Kvigbjörn frowned. „You‘re not suggesting losing, are you?“

Donar shook his head. „Fuck, no. If I fight, I‘ll fight to win, you know I wouldn‘t pretend to lose even to you, my dearest friend.“

„I know, and I respect you deeply for that,“ Kvigbjörn answered. „You know, I‘d never admit this with company, but there‘s no way I‘d win against you.“

Sighing, Donar scratched over his chin, his fingers sticking in the beard. „Fine, let‘s make this your official looking for a wife, I‘ll just be your suit. Kvigbjörn Úlfarson can‘t go on courtship without fitting retinue.“

„You‘d do that for me?“

Donar dipped his head. „Of course, my friend. You better make sure to win, though.“

Kvigbjörn grinned widely and looked around to check if someone was close. When he still didn‘t see anyone, he rushed forward, embracing Donar tightly. „Thank you, my dearest friend.“

Donar laughed and struggled, Kvigbjörn‘s carefully plaited beard tingling against his cheek. „C‘mon, you big bear,“ he said and poked Kvigbjörn‘s side. „We better hurry lest we miss the start.“

Kvigbjörn let go of his friend and hurried forward, almost running. Laughing, Donar caught up again.

„You‘re going to exhaust yourself if you run like this.“

„No one can stop me winning Adallfinna‘s hand now,“ Kvigbjörn retorted.

Donar laughed, but frowned when he saw a raven sitting on one of the bare-branched trees in the forest they were passing through. He stopped, noticing how Kvigbjörn did the same and walked back to his friend.

„I saw that raven at my hut this morning,“ Donar said, „and at your abode when I was waiting for you.“

Kvigbjörn followed Donar‘s eyes and shook his head. „You‘re seeing things. Why should a raven follow you around?“

„I don‘t know,“ Donar shrugged. „But look at its marks. A red ring on its head, white stripes on its wings. I doubt there are two ravens like that.“

„Let‘s shoot it down,“ Kvigbjörn said and bent down to pick up a stone.

„No!“ Donar hurried to stop his friend. „No, I don‘t think that‘d be a good idea.“

Kvigbjörn frowned at his friend, but let the stone fall to the ground again. „Whatever you say.“

Donar swallowed. That wretched bird was watching them, observing every movement.

„Maybe we should catch it,“ Kvigbjörn suggested. „We need a raven for the new boat.“

The raven croaked, angrily Donar thought, and took off, flying over them and almost knocking Kvigbjörn‘s helmet off. The tall Viking cursed after the bird.

 

 

Donar returned to his hut in the early morning hours. He rolled his shoulders and rested his skeggöx carefully against the chest before slipping out of his tunic. Things would change from now on, he knew. But seeing Kvigbjörn‘s happily glowing face all night didn‘t fail to make Donar happy as well.

And after all, he could understand his friend. Adallfinna was a beautiful, blonde woman, gentle and yet firm, quick-witted and it was said that she was most skilful with her hands in every matter a woman needed to be skilful. She would surely grant Kvigbjörn with many strong sons and beautiful daughters.

Donar plucked the drinking horn he had received as a small gesture of thanks and a promise of more gratitude from his friend, from his belt and put it onto the chest in the middle of the room.

He sat down on one of the rugs, thinking about the events of the day again while playing with the horn. He hadn‘t seen the raven again, but he had noticed a huge, black dog with a red ring on its head and white stripes running down its forelegs in the village. He had asked around, trying to find the owner, but no one seemed to claim that dog. Furthermore, every other dog seemed to avoid this particular specimen.

„You did well in telling your friend to drop that stone,“ Donar heard a voice from behind.

He jumped onto his knees and turned, cursing inwardly at being too far away from his loyal skeggöx.

„What?“ Donar croaked and stared at the creature in front of him. A pale, naked man stood in his hut, six black wings spread behind him and covered in blue eyes that were staring back at Donar. A red ring hovered above the man‘s head and white stripes were running down the sides of his arms.

The strange visitor walked around the chest Donar had sat in front of and sat down on the rug opposite Donar. He picked the horn from unresisting hands and turned it before his eyes. „You can say what you want about you barbarians, but you sure know how to celebrate. Next time make sure I get some of that mead, too, though.“

„What are you?“ Donar asked and reached out to take his horn back again.

„I‘m a seraph,“ the winged man answered.

Donar looked at him and cocked his head. „You were that raven.“

The man nodded.

„And that dog.“

The man nodded again. „As I said, I‘m a seraph. I‘m of the highest rank of all angels. We can turn into birds and dogs.“

Donar blinked. „What?“

The seraph sighed. „Of course, you only know your little pagan beliefs.“

Growling, Donar reached over the chest, twisting his hands in the seraph‘s hair and yanking his head closer. „If you‘ve come to mock me in my house, I‘ll have you know that I will not tolerate it.“

The seraph growled and spread his wings, a red glow spreading over them. „Let go of my hair.“

„Or what?“

„I will fucking burn down your hut and that whole long house next to it,“ the seraph snarled.

„My, what a good start already,“ a new voice was heard, sneering present in its tone.

Donar let go of the seraph‘s hair and turned towards the newcomer, a man wrapped in a black blanket and sporting three wings on his back.

„And who would you be?“ Donar snapped. „I don‘t recall putting word out that I‘d be receiving guests tonight, so you better have a valid reason for disturbing me in my own home.“

The three-winged man laughed and dipped his head. „If you may allow, my name‘s Belial and this is a matter of importance.“

Donar frowned, ignoring the low growl from the seraph behind him.

„Forsooth, He moves in mysterious ways,“ Belial chuckled. „This is almost too easy for us.“

„You are not to pass judgement on Him,“ another voice announced.

Growling, Donar dashed towards his axe and raised it, glowering at the newest visitor, a man with long blond hair, dressed in white and emitting a bright light that was just dimmed enough to not blind the occupants of the hut. Unsurprisingly, a pair of white wings grew out of the blond man‘s back.

„I don‘t care who the fuck you are,“ Donar growled at the assembly of winged men, „but you better get out of my hut or your heads shall become my trophies.“

Belial and the six-winged man laughed, while the blond looked shocked.

„Donar, you wouldn‘t raise your weapon against a messenger from God!“

Donar snorted. „I don‘t recall Odin, or any of the gods, using bird people as their messengers.“

„Give up, Michael, he‘s a heathen,“ the six-winged man laughed. „He‘ll behead you without even bothering which god you belong to.“

Michael glared at the seraph. He sighed and turned back to address the human. „Donar, you‘ve been chosen by the one and only God to pass judgement on this fallen seraph.“ He pointed at the six-winged angel.

Donar glanced briefly at the indicated man before returning his attention to Michael. „The one and only God? There is more than one god as every child knows.“

Michael sighed. „You soon will know the truth.“

Donar raised his eyebrows.

„What‘s of more importance, though,“ Belial made himself heard, „is what happens to our precious seraph here.“

Donar looked at the six-winged angel and frowned. The seraph was still sitting on the rug, two wings wrapped around himself while the other four wings remained spread, glaring at everyone in the room. Donar couldn‘t help but finding that incredibly handy. He often wished he could glare at more than two men at the same time when berating them.

„Just get over with it,“ the seraph growled.

Belial chuckled and turned to Donar. „As Michael here has already mentioned, you‘re the one who‘s going to decide his future.“

Donar squinted at the seraph, who was glaring back at him defiantly. Donar swallowed. Being subject to so many eyes‘ attention was unnerving.

„He‘s banned from Heaven,“ Michael explained. „But God is willing to give him a last chance to redeem himself.“

„Or to fall beyond salvation,“ Belial chuckled.

Donar frowned, still staring at the seraph.

„You‘ll be soul-bound for a year,“ Michael explained. „During that time, you‘ll always be together. Your judgement will be shown on the marks on his arms, tinting them light or black.“

„And after that year‘s over,“ Belial chimed in, „this shall be the measurement of your judgement.“

„Donar, child of Adam,“ Michael spoke again, „make sure he returns to the light way.“

Belial laughed. „You better be careful not to be dragged down with him.“

Donar averted his eyes from the seraph to look at his other visitors. He tried to make sense of what they had been saying, but as far as he was concerned, they didn‘t make any. He didn‘t even know which god they were talking of to start with.

But before he could question them further, they were gone in a cloud of black mist and an explosion of light. Donar squeezed his eyes shut and turned back to the seraph still sitting on the rug. They stared at each other for a while.

„I still don‘t know what this is all about,“ Donar eventually said.

„You‘re to pass judgement on me,“ the seraph said. „Should I go to the bad side or should I go to the good side.“

„How stupid. There‘s no such thing as good side or bad side.“

The seraph shrugged. „Seems like we‘re stuck with each other for a year nevertheless.“

„Well, what‘s your name then?“

„Matthew.“

„What‘s that thing floating above your head?“ Donar asked.

Matthew rolled his eyes. „It‘s a halo. It‘s supposed to show that I‘m holy and god-sent.“

Donar raised one eyebrow.

„Don‘t look at me like that. All angels are made with halos.“

„I still don‘t know which god uses so-called angels as messengers.“

„None of your religion as far as I know,“ Matthew answered. „Look, I know you don‘t know anything about the religion I originate from or the God I‘m supposed to serve and praise, but I really don‘t fancy answering questions right now. I had a long day following you around and an even longer night falling down from Heaven.“

Donar shrugged. „Just one then, why are you banned from wherever you should belong to?“

„I‘m a sinner,“ Matthew answered and crossed his arms.

Donar shrugged again. „Whatever.“ He walked over to one of the chests next to the sleeping alcove, retrieving the fur of a bear he and Kvigbjörn had hunted the previous winter. He tossed the fur rug towards Matthew.

„You can turn into a dog, right?“ Donar asked and pointed at the rug. „Make yourself comfortable.“

Matthew glowered at the rug. „I‘m not sleeping on that mouldy piece of fur. Nor am I sleeping on the floor.“

Donar shrugged. „I don‘t care, sit on the small rug all night if you want.“

„Do you have no sense of hospitality?“ Matthew snapped.

„I do,“ Donar hissed. „But considering that I didn‘t invite you in, nor was I asked if I wanted to participate in this one-year judgement thing, I think I‘m more than kind in offering you something soft to sleep on.“

He seized his axe and crawled into his sleeping alcove, pulling a few blankets and rugs over himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you notice who Kvigbjörn‘s supposed to be? :P The name means ,young bear‘.  
> 


	6. Entropy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the Present, back to hunting Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I‘m on a run with this one. Wheeeeeee.I‘m on a run with this one. Wheeeeeee.
> 
> This chapter‘s title is nicked from Jason Webley‘s album _Against the Night_ , which is quite a nice mood setter for this whole story and definitely worth a shot.

Gareth followed Dom and Matthew into the monastery they‘d been called to. Matthew had turned into a black dog for the time being and was trotting next to Dom, his tail wagging in what seemed to be a joyous way.

About a month had passed since Dom and Matthew had killed the wendigo and Gareth had followed them to a few other jobs. Most of them ended in blood and guts sprayed over the ground and a new head in Dom‘s special oven in the basement. All of them had ended with Dom and Matthew snapping and hissing at each other, threatening to end the other and physical fights. Eventually, they would leave the scene and head home, drinking mead and ending up in bed earlier than usual.

If they weren‘t out doing jobs, Matthew would often lurk around Gareth, purring into his ear and pressing his lips against Gareth‘s, nibbling at his earlobes. Gareth sighed.

He wasn‘t quite sure why he still followed them to jobs, knowing that he‘d be fighting his own nausea in the end. He also wasn‘t quite sure why he still was living in that house, and fighting off Matthew‘s advances.

Gareth remembered an incident a few days ago that should have caused him to severely doubt his decision to stay. Gareth had run out of excuses why he didn‘t want friends to visit and an old friend and colleague had invited himself over. He had sat in the kitchen together with Carl, catching up with their recent turns and twists of life.

 

_  
Gareth had just stood and opened one of the cupboards, looking through his storage of food for something to offer his guest. Carl was standing behind him, peeking into the cupboard, which thankfully was void of any suspicious items._

_„Someone‘s quite mad on honey,“ Carl sniggered._

_„Yeah, it‘s one of the few things Matthew actually eats,“ Gareth sighed._

_Carl frowned. „Matthew? Didn‘t you say your landlord‘s name is Dominic?“_

_„Erm…“ Gareth stuttered. Should he tell Carl that Matthew was a raven? But knowing the seraph, he‘d turn up as a dog just to see Gareth search for more explanations desperately. He was spared an answer, though._

_„Ooh, ladyfingers!“ Carl exclaimed happily and reached out._

_Gareth came as far as „No! They‘re Ma…“ before a furious croak was heard and a flurry of black feathers, sharp beak and pointed claws was attacking Carl._

_Gareth reached out, but stopped before touching Matthew. He was sure holding Matthew back would only serve to fuel the rage. „Matthew, please,“ Gareth begged, flexing his fingers next to the raven. „Please stop!“_

_„Get this rabid bird off me!“ Carl screamed and tried to hit Matthew._

_„No! Don‘t hit him!“ Gareth shouted. „Please, don‘t! Matthew, stop, please. Carl will buy you a new pack of ladyfingers.“_

_Matthew stopped his attack for a moment to croak at Gareth and turned back to Carl, succeeding in dragging his claws over Carl‘s cheek and leaving three deep scratches._

_„Like fuck I will buy anything for this mad crow!“ Carl screamed. His hands found a frying pan that had been lying on the kitchen counter and hit it against Matthew._

_The raven collided with the table and scrambled into a standing position. Gareth swallowed and rushed forward, clinging to Carl to stop him from further attacks against the raven._

_„He‘s going to get you two packs,“ Gareth assured._

_„What are you even trying to reason with a_ bird _?“_

_Matthew twitched and stared at the two men, croaking angrily._

_„What the fuck is going on in here?“ Dom shouted and pushed the kitchen door open. He frowned at the scene, his eyes narrowing on a crumbled ladyfinger on the floor. Dom glared at Matthew. „Don‘t tell me you made a racket over one bloody ladyfinger.“_

_Matthew croaked._

_Rolling his eyes, Dom turned towards Gareth and Carl, who still stood in the same place, Gareth clinging to Carl, Carl holding the pan raised._

_„I‘m sorry if my raven has caused any inconvenience,“ Dom addressed Carl._

_Matthew croaked again._

_„Shut up, Matthew,“ Dom hissed._

_Another angry croak._

_„Learn to share for a second, will you?“ Dom snapped back._

_Matthew ruffled his wings and took a step towards Dom, croaking even more angrily._

_„No, he fucking won‘t buy you another pack,“ Dom hissed, „and I don‘t care about what Gareth has told you already.“_

_Matthew rolled his head and stretched, growing two more pairs of wings and stretching out arms and legs until he had completely morphed into his humanoid state. „Those are_ mine _,“ he snarled. „I fucking worked for them!“_

_Dom snorted. „I fucking fought with that bloody wendigo. You just almost burnt my axe.“_

_„Do I look as if I care?“_

_Growling, Dom lunged forward, fisting Matthew‘s hair and yanking his head back. „You better do something about your priorities.“_

_„And you better do something about your temper,“ Matthew snapped back and kicked against Dom‘s shins._

_Carl stared helplessly at the fighting men. He turned his head towards Gareth, pointing at the fighters._

_Gareth sighed. „That‘s why I never invited you over.“_

_„What?“ Carl asked weakly.  
_

 

It had ended with Matthew and Dom erasing most of that evening from Carl‘s memory. Gareth had met his confused friend the following day at work. Carl sported three scratches on his left cheek, not remembering where he had received them.

So now, Gareth just settled for telling everyone that his landlord‘s bird didn‘t like strangers much and that he didn‘t want to put the poor thing through any unnecessary stress.

Dom stopped at the door to the huge church in the centre of the monastery and looked down at Matthew, grinning. „Don‘t you love returning to monasteries?“

Matthew barked, and Gareth could have sworn it was a cheerful bark.

Dom chuckled. „Yeah, the memories, the memories.“

Gareth caught up with them and threw Dom a questioning look.

„Lindisfarne?“ Dom offered.

Gareth stared at him with wide eyes. He hadn‘t given the piece of information that Dom had revealed a few weeks ago much thought yet.

„They wouldn‘t let me or Matthew anywhere near this place if they knew,“ Dom said. Grinning widely, he pushed the heavy door open and slid into the chill building.

„I‘m sorry, but there are no dogs allowed in here,“ a young woman addressed Dom, her white habit and veil revealing her as a novice. He looked at her and down at Matthew. The angel was growling softly. Dom looked back at the novice, smiling sweetly.

„He‘ll wait here,“ he announced. Patting Matthew‘s head to more growling, he set off towards the altar. Gareth looked back at Matthew, who was staring darkly after them.

„Do you think it‘s a good idea to leave him alone?“

„No, but she insisted on it,“ Dom answered, smirking.

Gareth frowned. He followed Dom to a small aisle next to the altar that led towards a small door. The door clashed with the old interior, Gareth found. As if someone had just taken a flake board and screwed it in place without any care for the surrounding place. He shook his head, wondering if he should offer to fix the door.

He stepped into the small office after Dom, taking in the sparse interior. A few shelves lined the walls, filled with neatly marked folders. A heavy, old desk stood in front of the wall opposite the door. The old nun behind it rose from her chair and stepped around, extending her hand towards the newcomers.

„Mr Howard and Mr Brennan, I presume?“

Dom nodded. „The Reverend Mother Superior?“

She nodded while Gareth carefully shook her hand.

„I‘m the Reverend Mother Superior Clara.“

„Gareth Brennan,“ Gareth answered.

She smiled and dipped her head in acknowledgement before turning to Dom.

„So you‘re the famed Dominic Howard,“ she said while they were shaking hands.

Dom chuckled. „I‘m afraid so.“

She sighed and turned to walk back to her desk, sitting down behind it. „I presume you‘re curious about why we sent for you of all exorcists.“

Dom nodded and sat down on one of the chairs opposite her. „The Catholic Church has their own exorcists as far as I know, and they‘re not too keen on my methods.“

She nodded. „Yes, you and your… angel aren‘t perceived too well. Nevertheless, I‘m afraid there‘s a demon possessing a dear friend of mine and none of our exorcists succeeded in dispossessing her.“

„Do you have a clue which demon has taken possession of her?“

Mother Superior nodded. „That‘s why I called for you. It‘s known that you‘re searching for this particular demon.“

„Leraikha “ Dom hissed, his jaw and fist clenched.

The Mother Superior nodded again.

Gareth squinted sideways at his tense landlord, a low growl rumbling in Dom‘s throat.

„This time she won‘t escape,“ Dom growled. „Give me all the information you have gathered so far.“

„We don‘t know how long she‘s been in Sister Magdalena since our information states that she usually lurks inside someone‘s mind before striking.“

Dom nodded. „That‘s her usual strategy. She‘s a master in hiding, usually not even the victim notices anything before it‘s far too late. How did you notice?“

„One morning, we came to the altar to do our morning prayers and Sister Magdalena started screaming and clutching her chest. When I bent over her to find out what caused this distress, she pushed me away and ran towards the altar.“ The Mother Superior sighed and closed her eyes. „She grabbed the candle one of our sisters had just lit and threw it against the cross and Christ‘s body. Thankfully, the candle went out during the throw.“

Dom nodded. „I see. What happened then?“

„We dragged her into my office and locked her in to call the Vatican for help.“

„I see, and while you tried to figure out what to do in this situation, she burnt the door.“

The Mother Superior nodded. „We then tried to keep her in a fixed place by the use of holy water and crucifixes. And for a while it seemed to work.“

Dom laughed darkly. „You can‘t hold the Great Marquees of Hell back with holy water or crucifixes.“

„We didn‘t know back then. She was toying with us. We only found out when the exorcist came.“

„Let me guess,“ Dom groaned. „She went through the whole exorcism, wailing and crying and thrashing before bursting out in laughter.“

Mother Superior bit her lips and nodded.

„She killed the exorcist?“

„Yes,“ she whispered.

Dom looked at the cowering woman and for a moment, Gareth was sure he would press her for details. Instead, he rubbed his hands over his face. „Where is she now?“

„I don‘t know,“ the Mother Superior admitted. „She ran off after she had killed the exorcist.“

„Of course,“ Dom sighed. „Give me a photo and details about Sister Magdalena‘s habits, please.“

The Mother Superior shoved a folder over the table. „She‘s been in the monastery for about fifteen years, everything before you‘ll find in this folder.“

Dom nodded and flipped through the pages, muttering dates and places under his breath. „She‘s from an engineers‘ family?“

„Yes, they hold quite a big family fortune.“

„I‘ll never understand why people would leave all that behind just like that,“ Dom sighed and closed the file. „Thank you, Reverend Mother, I think I know where to start looking for her.“

The Reverend Mother nodded and opened her mouth to answer just when they heard groans coming from the other side of the door. Gareth frowned and glanced at Dom, who sighed.

„He wouldn‘t…“ Gareth whispered.

„Believe me, he would,“ Dom answered and rose from the chair. „And he is right now.“

He pushed the door open and sure enough he found the novice who had insisted that Matthew stayed behind on the floor, her veil lost and revealing long, dark hair, her skirt pushed up and her slip discarded next to her. Above her, Matthew was hovering, wings spread and all eyes focussed on the woman beneath, his hips thrusting against her in a steady rhythm.

Gareth heard footsteps from behind and the Reverend Mother gasped. „What?“

The novice moaned and reached up to touch one of Matthew‘s wings. Before she could reach it, though, Matthew had grabbed her wrist and had shoved it against the hard floor.

„Don‘t touch my wings,“ he snarled.

„Sister Gesa!“ the Reverend Mother shouted.

The novice turned her head, eyes wide and staring at her superior. She opened her mouth, but Matthew fisted his hand in her hair and yanked her head back to look at him. He bent down to hiss into her ear, „You‘re looking at me until we‘re done here.“

Sister Gesa whimpered, but directed her attention back to Matthew, leaning her head upwards as if hoping for a kiss. Matthew chuckled darkly and thrust into her a last time. He threw his head back, the eyes in his face squeezed shut and lips parted.

Gareth swallowed and averted his eyes, not wanting to acknowledge the plethora of blue eyes staring at him from within black wings.

Matthew sighed contentedly and pulled out of the whimpering novice. „Where are you going?“

„I‘m done here,“ Matthew stated and pulled her skirt towards him, cleaning himself off before standing and ignoring her begs for release. He looked at the crucifix and saluted sloppily, before turning to the small group in the door.

„Oh, the Mother,“ he giggled and rushed forward, but was held back by Dom.

„You had enough fun already,“ Dom growled.

„There can never be enough fun,“ Matthew laughed and winked at the shocked Reverend Mother.

„You‘re…“ she shuttered. „You can‘t be…“

„I must beg you pardon, Reverend Mother,“ Dom said. „He‘s just a fallen angel who can‘t help his urges and carnal desires.“

The Reverend Mother stared at Matthew, her lips a thin line. Matthew winked and wiggled out of Dom‘s hold to wrap himself around Gareth, nibbling at his ear lobe. Gareth sighed and rested his hands above Matthew‘s waist, taking care not to touch the marks.

„You should take care of your novice,“ Dom said. „And you shouldn‘t be too harsh on her, it‘s hard rejecting Matthew when he‘s seducing someone.“

The Reverend Mother huffed and pushed through them to kneel down next to Sister Gesa. She lifted her head to stare at them. „Get this sinner out of my monastery,“ she snarled.

Dom sighed and saluted before grabbing one of Matthew‘s wings, pulling the swearing and kicking seraph outside.

„Mr Howard,“ the Reverend Mother called out after them.

Dom stopped at the door and turned. „Yes?“

„I know you‘re not fond of our religion, and I know you don‘t care for angels or demons, but please, I beg you, be careful with Sister Magdalena. She‘s my dearest friend.“

Dom smiled and nodded. „I promise to be careful with your friend.“

The Reverend Mother smiled and nodded. „Thank you.“

Dom pulled Matthew outside and hissed at him to turn into another shape. Matthew kicked against Dom‘s shin before bending forward, four of his wings wrapping around his body and covering it in feathers while the seraph shrunk. Eventually, a raven sat on the cobblestones and flew up to sit on Gareth‘s shoulder, croaking at Dom.

Dom rolled his eyes and walked towards the exit of the estate.

Gareth glanced sideways at the raven sitting on his shoulder and swallowed. Matthew was watching him intently, a mischievous glint in the black eyes.

Shaking his head slightly, Gareth rushed after Dom.

„Do you think you can save Sister Magdalena?“ he asked after a while.

Dom stopped and looked up at the sky. He shrugged. „I don‘t know. You never know with Leraikha.“

„You‘ve met that demon before,“ Gareth stated, rubbing his ear after Matthew had croaked directly into it when Dom had mentioned the demon‘s name. The raven took off and flew over to sit on Dom‘s shoulder.

„Several times,“ Dom grunted.

„Sounds as if it‘s something personal.“

„Yes,“ Dom answered and walked on, not offering any more explanations.

 

 

„I don‘t know where my sister is.“

Dom sighed. „The Reverend Mother is worried about Sister Magdalena,“ he tried again.

„Is that any of my problems?“ Fages snapped. He glanced down at the black dog between the two men that had turned up on his doorstep. „My sister decided it‘d be a great thing to break with her family, take on a completely new identity and go and live in some monastery, praying to some fictional being.“

„I‘m sure she had her reasons for such a decision,“ Gareth offered weakly.

Fages glared at him. „What are you implying, young man?“

Gareth swallowed. „I‘m implying nothing, I just tried to…“

„Why don‘t you just stop assuming and trying and get off my estate?“ Fages snarled.

„Listen,“ Dom hissed. „I don‘t care what you think about her way of life, nor do I fucking care about her being some nun. But she‘s disappeared under rather mysterious circumstances and if you know anything about her whereabouts, you better tell us now.“

Fages frowned. „Are you saying something happened to her?“

„Most definitely,“ Dom said. „She tried to set fire to the church, killed a cleric and then escaped.“

Fages swallowed. „That‘s not my sister.“

„The Reverend Mother seemed to be quite sure about that,“ Dom retorted. „And judging by her distress, which seemed most genuine to me, she was telling the truth.“

Fages swallowed again and glanced at Gareth before opening the door a bit wider. „Fine, come in, but the dog stays outside.“

Matthew growled.

„I’d rather not let him stay outside,“ Dom answered, cheerfully. „You never know what he does when he‘s bored. Just ask the Reverend Mother. He didn‘t do anything to relieve her distress.“

Fages looked down at Matthew, who bared his teeth at him. „Only more reasons not to let him in.“

Dom shrugged and grinned at Matthew. He bent down to pat the dog‘s head. „Seems like no one wants you inside, poor, little thing“

Matthew growled darkly.

„I could wait with him?“ Gareth offered.

„Oh, no, why would you?“ Dom smiled and hooked his arm underneath Gareth‘s and dragged him inside, letting the door fall shut before Matthew. A furious bark was heard and Dom laughed.

Fages turned and glowered at them. „I would think that this issue needs to be dealt with a bit more seriously.“

„Of course,“ Dom said. „I beg your pardon, I just can‘t help annoying that little bugger.“

Fages grunted and pointed at a door to the right in the spacious corridor. Dom and Gareth followed him into an office that was quite the opposite of the Reverend Mother‘s. They trod on soft, red carpet, a heavy, dark desk resting in front of the floor windows and certificates in golden frames lined the walls.

„Matthew would love this carpet,“ Dom murmured.

Gareth swallowed and blushed. He could only imagine what the seraph would feel inspired to by the red carpet.

Fages sat down behind the desk and pointed at a few chairs opposite.

Dom sat down and leant forward, resting his elbows on the shining table top. „She‘s been here,“ he stated.

Fages‘ face became pale. „How do you…?“

„Let‘s say I‘ve seen enough to have a fair knowledge of human nature.“

Fages nodded. He breathed in and reclined. „She was here yesterday,“ he said. „Said she needed money and a place to hide. But she didn‘t want to tell me why.“

„Did you help her?“

Fages snorted. „Of course not. We haven‘t talked for years and all of a sudden she turns up on my doorstep to ask for money?“

„But you could tell she was in trouble?“ Gareth asked. He stared at Fages, wondering what had happened for a brother to send his sister away when she had come looking for help.

„Not yesterday, no,“ Fages answered. „Yesterday she only wanted money and didn‘t say why.“

„She returned today,“ Dom said.

Fages nodded. „She begged me for help. Said she was in trouble and needed to disappear for a while.“ He looked at Dom. „I didn‘t know she had killed someone. Why would she do that?“ He frowned. „Wait… why are the police not coming if she has killed someone?“ He reached out for the phone, but Dom leant forward to place his hand on Fages‘.

„Because the police doesn‘t know yet,“ he said. „You can call the Reverend Mother and ask what happened, but believe me when I tell you that the police should be kept out of this for now.“

Fages‘ frown deepened and he glanced at Dom‘s hand on his. Dom lifted it and reclined against the backrest of his chair, keeping both hands in the air. „If you want to, go ahead, call them. Ask for Inspector Adkison, if you do.“

„Who are you?“

Dom smiled. „Dominic Howard.“

„I know, you mentioned your name,“ Fages hissed. „What‘s your profession?“

„I‘m a freelancer,“ Dom answered.

Fages narrowed his eyes. He fumbled in his pocket and picked out his cell phone, rising from his chair. „I‘ll call the Reverend Mother,“ he announced and walked towards the door. He turned again before leaving, pointing into a corner. „Don‘t think you can steal something or spy on me, I‘ve got cameras installed.“

Dom just smiled and nodded, watching him leave.

„Why don‘t you tell him the truth?“ Gareth asked once they were alone.

Dom laughed. „What should I tell him? That I‘m an ancient Viking with a seraph who earns his living with exorcisms? I don‘t think that‘d go down too well.“

„Maybe just the exorcism bit?“

„That‘d be enough for Fages to not believe a single word I say,“ Dom answered. He craned his neck to look out of the windows. A raven with a red ring on its head and marks above its tail sat in the trees opposite the windows. Dom waved at him.

„Don‘t you think you‘re being a bit mean?“ Gareth asked.

Dom lifted one eyebrow and looked at Gareth. „I haven‘t even started being mean.“

„Well…“

„He can take that. It‘d be mean if I stopped brewing mead and refused to buy him his sponge cakes.“

„Well, yes,“ Gareth admitted.

„By the way, I‘m surprised you’ve lasted this long,“ Dom said. „By now most of my previous renters had fled or given in to Matthew‘s seduction.“

„Erm… Thanks, I guess,“ Gareth muttered.

Dom sniggered and shifted into a more comfortable position. „He said he‘d have you out of the house within a week after you first came to have a look at the house.“

„Oh…“ Gareth glanced at the raven in the trees. „Do you think he‘s still trying to drive me out of the house?“

„No, he‘s trying to get into your pants now.“

„I‘m not sure which is worse.“

„Believe me, you should be happy about him just trying to seduce you. If he honestly wanted you out of the house, you‘d be long gone since after begging me to erase each and every memory of him and my house.“

The door clicked and Dom and Gareth turned to look at Fages. His face was a lot paler than minutes before. He walked towards his chair, steps ginger and unsure. He sat down and looked up at Dom, eyes wide.

„Okay, I believe you. The Reverend Mother just pretty much confirmed everything you said.“

„Good,“ Dom said and leant forward again, palms flat on the desktop. „Now tell me everything you know.“

Fages nodded. „She was here today again,“ he said. „This time she looked panicked and scared. She begged me for some money, but mostly for a place to stay where no one would find her easily.“

„Did you help her today?“

Fages nodded again. „I gave her an address.“

„I need it.“

Fages reached for a paper and scribbled down a few notes. „I will come as well,“ he announced.

Dom sighed. „Of course.“ He looked down at the sheet of papers. „Right, I‘ll have to head home first. Let‘s meet there in the evening, say eight p.m.“

„What are you going to do when you‘re there?“ Fages asked.

„Trying to help Sister Magdalena,“ Dom answered. He rose from his chair and nodded his greeting before leaving, Gareth hurrying to follow him.

 

 

„What a nice building,“ Dom stated. He stood in front of an old house at the edge of the town, the wooden doors and window frames withering and rotting away and almost every window smashed.

„It belongs to my family,“ Fages explained, „but we haven‘t used it for generations. The house in the city is far more handy for business.“

Dom nodded. He rolled his shoulders and stepped forward to climb the old staircase, taking care to not tread on loose stones.

„Where‘s your dog?“ Fages asked.

„He‘ll come when I call,“ Dom answered. He carefully pushed open the door and slid inside.

Swallowing, Gareth followed him and blinked, trying to adjust to the twilight inside. „Do you think she‘s still here?“ he whispered into Dom‘s ear.

Dom nodded. „She‘s expecting me.“

„How do you know?“

„The trace was easy to follow, wasn‘t it?“

Gareth nodded.

„She‘s playing,“ Dom growled, „again.“ He shrugged out of the coat and handed it to Gareth.

„What the hell?“ Fages exclaimed, staring at the heads on Dom‘s belt.

Dom glanced at him and rolled his eyes, drawing his skeggöx from its holster on his back.

„You said you wanted to help my sister!“

„I intend to, but I want to kill someone else,“ Dom growled. „And now shut up.“

„Oh, you‘ve got an angel‘s head now,“ a female voice was heard from above. „You didn‘t have that last time.“

Gareth turned towards the old staircase and looked up to see a woman, maybe in her forties. She was wearing a nun‘s dress.

„Leraikha, Great Marquees of Hell,“ Dom snarled.

„Donar Wælhrafnson,“ she retorted.

„You won‘t escape this time.“

Leraikha laughed. „Oh Donar, Donar, how often have I heard this sentence already?“ She stepped onto the rail and jumped down, stopping mid-air and glowing dark violet. „You should have woken your little angel head before you came in.“

„I can exorcise you without.“

„What are you talking about?“ Fages shouted. „What is going on?“

Leraikha laughed and pointed her hand into Fages’ direction, the violet shimmer around her moving to concentrate in the tip of her finger. Gareth frowned. He had seen something similar when Matthew had burnt the wendigo.

„Stop playing,“ Dom growled. „You‘re fighting with me.“

„Without your bird? You know you won‘t stand a chance.“ Leraikha landed in front of Dom and bent her knees, sinking to the floor. As soon as Magdalena‘s head had hit the floorboards, mist pooled from her mouth and rose, twisting and turning around itself until it had formed the body of a woman. Her skin was dark purple, white hair falling over her shoulders and a long tail twisting behind her. A white wing stretched behind her back.

Gareth craned his neck, wondering why she would only have one wing. He managed to gain a peek of a stump of a second wing that looked as if it had been burnt off.

She lifted her hand, the violet light still concentrated on her index. „Die.“

The light exploded and Gareth stumbled back. Doubling over, he didn‘t know if he was cold or hot. He squeezed his eyes shot, but the more he squeezed, the more he was blinded, the more the cold burnt his skin.

„Open your eyes,“ Dom hissed.

Shaking, Gareth complied, surprised that he could see again, the burning cold slowly ebbing away.

Dom stood in front of Leraikha, his axe raised and the runes on it glowing blue.

Leraikha sneered. „You also got some additions to your axe.“

„Of course,“ Dom snarled. He reached for his necklace, grabbing the pendant shaped like a bird and called for Matthew.

„He‘s calling his dog?“ Fages asked. He was sitting cowering on the floor, shaking and staring wide-eyed at the scene.

Gareth shrugged. „In a way.“

To his surprise, Matthew didn‘t take long to appear. The raven shot through an open window and rushed towards Leraikha‘s head. He gashed his beak against her skull, scratching over her cheeks and almost hitting an eye before she managed to hit him away.

Matthew was send tumbling towards Gareth, and the human hurried to catch him. But instead of a bird, he suddenly found a human body in his arms, black wings covering his sight. Without hesitation, Matthew pushed himself up again and threw himself towards Leraikha again.

She growled and tried to hit him, but Matthew dodged and turned into a dog, sinking his teeth into her arm before she could send another spell.

„You little shit!“ she screamed. „I should have killed you when I had the chance.“

„You‘re not going to kill anyone ever again!“ Dom roared and threw his skeggöx towards her skull.

Leraikha avoided the weapon by letting herself fall to the ground. She rolled around, dragging Matthew with her. „Let me go, you mangy angel,“ she hissed, kicking at him.

Matthew growled and shook his head, forcing his teeth deeper into her flesh while Dom had followed his axe‘s flight and had picked it up again. He swung around, ready to hit Leraikha‘s throat. But once again, the demon rolled to the side and Dom only just missed Matthew‘s paw.

Swearing, Leraikha moved her tail, aiming the sharp tip at Matthew.

„Move!“ Dom roared and Matthew let go of the arm and jumped to the side, spreading his wings and landing crouched next to where Leraikha had just been.

„Come back, you fucking coward!“ Dom roared. „I‘m not done with you!“

„You know she won‘t come back,“ Matthew stated.

Dom ignored him. „I‘m going to bloody end you, so come back and get what you deserve!“

„Donar,“ Matthew said.

Still no reaction, apart from further screaming after the escaped demon. Dom swung his axe and threw it against the floorboards where Leraikha had just vanished.

„Donar!“ Matthew shouted. „She‘s gone. As always.“

„Bitch,“ Dom snarled. „We were so close this time.“

„We‘re always close,“ Matthew stated. He rose into a standing position and picked up the axe before walking to Dom and holding out the weapon.

Dom took the weapon and growled, hitting the blunt side of the axe against Matthew‘s skull. „You should have held on to her! She can‘t disappear as long as you hold her.“

Matthew held his head and glared at Dom. „Of course, how could I even think about saving myself from her poison? Nothing‘s as important as your revenge.“ He wrapped his wings around himself and was gone within a second.

Dom stood and stared at the point where Matthew just had been. Sighing, he shook his head and ran his hands over his face before turning to Sister Magdalena.

Gareth watched him, frowning. While he was used to them being at each other’s throats, this exchange was new. Matthew had never just disappeared from the scene without any dramatic special effects. He had also never bothered to retrieve Dom‘s axe, nor had Dom ever snapped at the seraph for avoiding a potentially lethal blow, even if the prey had escaped for the time being.

Dom plucked Gloria‘s head from the belt and whispered into her ear. The angel blinked. „Check on Sister Magdalena, see if she‘s alright and clear,“ Dom ordered before Gloria could even take in her surroundings.

Gloria frowned and looked around. She glanced down at Sister Magdalena and narrowed her eyes. „Leraikha?“

„Yes,“ Dom growled.

„I see,“ Gloria answered and concentrated on the prone woman. „She‘s clear,“ she announced after a while.

„Good,“ Dom grunted and whispered into Gloria‘s ear, telling her to sleep. He left the house without another word, leaving Gareth and Fages to tend to Sister Magdalena.  



	7. Lass uns nach Hause gehen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curiosity killed the Cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muahahaa. Or should I say, sorry? You‘ll decide. Either way, I had too much fun writing this. I should be worried. *cackles*
> 
> The chapter‘s title is taken from the song _Susej_ by Einstürzende Neubauten. It translates to _Let‘s go home_.

Gareth sat on his chair in the kitchen and watched Dom rummaging with a carboy filled with a golden liquid, an empty carboy, honey and a mixture of spices that smelled foreign.

„Where‘s Matthew?“ Gareth asked after a while. The seraph hadn‘t returned home after the fight with Leraikha the previous evening and Gareth started to get worried. Dom and Matthew‘s behaviour wasn‘t quite what he was used to from them.

„He‘ll come back eventually,“ Dom grunted. He took a gulp from the whisky bottle that stood on the table, gurgled and swallowed before sucking on the hose hanging in the filled carboy. Carefully, Dom pushed it into the empty carboy that stood on a chair and watched the liquid trickle into it.

„Don‘t you think you were a bit harsh on him yesterday?“

„Maybe,“ Dom answered without looking up from his work. He squinted at the carboy on the table, it‘s content slowly declining.

„What are you doing?“

„Racking what‘s going to be sack mead,“ Dom explained. „This one‘s a special brew. Really sweet, but strong. I usually don‘t bother, because the honey and spices are kinda expensive.“

„Why do you bother now?“ Gareth asked, biting his cheek to not smile.

Dom grunted something.

Gareth watched for a while. „I imagine it‘s Matthew‘s favourite mead,“ he said after a while.

Dom hummed something that could be a positive answer. Smiling, Gareth pushed the chair back and left the kitchen. He walked into the living room and sat down on his accustomed armchair, deciding to finish the novel he had picked up earlier.

He read a few paragraphs and shifted, almost expecting a naked, warm body wrapping itself around him, wet lips tugging on his ear lobe. Gareth shook his head and looked towards Matthew‘s hammock. Did he actually miss Matthew‘s advances on him?

He sighed and closed the book, throwing it onto the table, and leant back. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander. Where could Matthew be? As far as Gareth knew, the seraph was still bound to Dom, an outcast to both heaven and hell. So there was no place he could go to, was there?

The phone rang and Dom shouted after Gareth, asking him to answer. Gareth grunted and rose to his feet, hurrying into the corridor and picking up the phone, pressing on the answer button.

„Brennan,“ he mumbled.

„Fages here,“ the other side crackled. „Is Mr Howard at home?“

Gareth frowned. „Yeah, but he‘s busy. Can I relay something to him?“

„I‘d like to talk to himself,“ Fages answered.

Gareth squinted at the door to the kitchen. He didn‘t know much about making mead, but he guessed that Dom wouldn‘t want to be disturbed right now. He shrugged and walked to the kitchen.

Dom looked up from the carboys, both of them half-filled by now. „What?“

„Fages wants to talk to you,“ Gareth answered.

Dom lifted his eyebrows in a silent question and Gareth shrugged. Sighing deeply, Dom jerked his head. „Hold the phone to my ear, I won‘t stop the syphoning.“

Gareth nodded and walked towards Dom. He held the phone up and against Dom‘s ear.

„Yeah?“

„Mr Howard,“ Fages‘ voice sounded. „Can we meet?“

Dom frowned. „I‘ll be busy for a few more hours.“

„I need to talk to you,“ Fages insisted.

„Then tell me on the phone.“

„Is something wrong with Sister Magdalena?“ Gareth asked.

Silence was heard on the other end. „Is Mr Brennan still there?“

„Of course,“ Dom said. „He‘s holding the phone, since I haven‘t got any hands free.“

„I see,“ Fages‘ voice answered. „No, as far as I know, my sister is okay. She‘s back at the monastery and the Reverend Mother is taking care of her.“

Dom nodded. „She cares deeply for Sister Magdalena,“ he pointed out.

Fages huffed.

„Anyway, why are you calling?“

„I owe you for saving my sister,“ Fages said. „I might not have been in contact with her for too long, but I realised I still care about her.“

Dom hummed, cursing softly when the hose almost slipped from his hands. „It‘s always good a feeling when influential people feel they owe you.“

„Let me pay you as a sign of gratitude,“ Fages offered.

„I‘d rather keep the knowledge of your gratitude for a while, to be honest.“

„I don‘t like to feel like I owe you,“ Fages insisted.

Dom sighed. „If it‘s any consolation, I‘d come to you if I need a favour.“

„No, I‘m a man of honour,“ Fages said. „I like to pay my debts and I owe you deeply for saving my sister. Please, let me at least pay you.“

„You want to ease your conscience by paying me for having saved your sister?“ Dom asked. „I already received my payment from the Reverend Mother.“

„Name your price,“ Fages urged.

Dom rolled his eyes. „Mhmm… let me think.“ He looked at Gareth. „Sister Magdalena is quite fit, do you need a wife, Gareth?“

„What?“ two voices sounded.

Dom rolled his eyes again. „Is that not established as means of payment any longer?“ He sighed theatrically. „Fine, ten thousand quid. Cash.“

„Meet me at the bank at Oral Market in two hours,“ Fages said.

„I‘ll only be done racking and starting a new fermentation in about two hours,“ Dom retorted.

„The bank closes at 6 p.m.“

„What time is it now?“ Dom asked, adjusting the hose again to the different levels in the carboys.

Gareth glanced at the clock next to the door. „About quarter to three.“

„Fine, I‘ll be there at five thirty,“ Dom said and pulled away from the phone, nodding at Gareth to close the line.

Gareth put the phone onto the table and sat down on his chair. He watched the carboy on the chair slowly filling.

„Dom?“

„Mhm?“

Gareth looked up from the carboy at his landlord. „Did you ever accept a woman as payment?“

„Yeah, once or twice.“

Gareth nodded and looked down at the carboy again. He felt Dom‘s eyes on him.

„What did you expect?“ Dom asked. „I‘m a Viking. We used to take even monks as slaves.“

„It‘s hard to imagine,“ Gareth mumbled and looked back at Dom.

The Viking chuckled lightly. „Zeitgeist and common morals have changed a lot.“

Gareth nodded. There was not much he could add to that statement. „You never charged anyone this much.“

„I don‘t trust Fages, nor do I like him,“ Dom answered. „Furthermore, he can pay that amount easily. My feeling of guilt for overcharging him is not too unbearable.“

„Should I come with you?“

„If you want to,“ Dom chuckled again. „You‘re becoming more of an assistant than Matthew ever was.“

Gareth grinned lopsidedly, but quickly became serious again. „I‘m worried about him,“ he admitted.

„No need to, that little fucker can take care of himself quite well,“ Dom grinned. „He‘ll be back when he misses his ladyfingers and mead too much.“

 

 

Dom and Gareth left the station and walked towards the old brick building that hosted the bank. He stopped in front and checked his watch.

„17:25, we‘re early.“

„Should we go inside?“ Gareth asked.

Dom shook his head and sat down on the stairs. „No, let‘s wait ten minutes. After that we leave.“

Gareth grinned and sank down next to Dom. „You really don‘t like Fages, do you?“

„No, not at all,“ Dom admitted. He reclined, resting his arms on the stairs behind and looked into the early evening sky. „First he‘d renege his sister had he the chance and now he suddenly is thankful for me saving her?“

„Maybe he just realised he still cares for her?“

Dom shook his head. „Possible, but he‘s not the type.“ He glanced at Gareth. „Did he ask a lot after Matthew and I left yesterday?“

Gareth frowned and looked at the sky, the faint moon shining in the milky grey-blue sky. „He seemed too shocked to ask much. We picked up Sister Madgalena and brought her to his house. She came round in the car and, apparently, couldn‘t remember anything.“

Dom hummed. He turned his head and straightened again. „Our date is appearing.“

Gareth followed the direction Dom was looking at. Fages hurried towards them from the parking lot. He glanced at Gareth before smiling widely at Dom, who had stood.

„Mr Howard, you were gone yesterday before I could express my gratitude,“ he greeted Dom, reaching for his hand to shake it with both hands.

Dom shrugged. „That‘s why we‘re here now, aren‘t we?“

Fages nodded. He looked around. „Your… dog, isn‘t he with you today?“

„No,“ Dom answered cheerfully, „we‘ve still got a bit of a quarrel going on after yesternight.“

„I‘m sure you‘ll reach an agreement soon,“ Fages said, causing Dom to laugh loudly.

„I don‘t know if we ever have reached any kind of agreement before.“

Fages lifted an eyebrow, but didn‘t comment. He pointed towards the doors behind them. „Should we?“

Dom nodded and stepped to the side, indicating Fages to walk ahead. He and Gareth followed him inside and past the counters that Gareth usually walked up to. Instead, they walked towards the desk at the end of the room. The woman behind nodded at Fages in greeting and smiled, only squinting at Dom in his leather jacket and Gareth in his brown cord jacket and worn-out jeans for a short moment.

Fages sat down and turned to look up at Dom. „Are you sure you want the payment in cash? I could transfer it to your bank account.“

Dom shook his head. „No, my bank would only wonder why there‘s so much coming in all of a sudden,“ he explained cheerfully. „I‘m notoriously out of cash.“

„Well, you might want to think about the long-term benefits such as interests.“

Dom laughed. „Oh, Fages, if you knew me just a bit better, you‘d know that you‘re talking to someone with a very special take on long-term benefits.“

Fages shrugged and turned towards the bank clerk. „I‘d like to withdraw some money.“

She nodded. „Of course.“ The clerk disappeared behind her desk for a moment to retrieve a form and shoved it over the desktop together with a pen.

Fages smiled at her and turned back to Dom. „Ten thousand you said?“

Dom bent down to watch Fages write. He smiled sweetly. „No, I think it was fifteen.“

Fages‘ jaw tensed. „I just put down twenty.“

„Splendid!“ Dom exclaimed. „Thank you.“ He looked up, smiling widely at the frowning clerk. „I‘m not blackmailing him, if that‘s what you‘re thinking,“ he explained. „He himself insisted on paying me any number I named.“

„I didn‘t assume anything,“ the clerk answered, lips pressed into a tight smile.

„Of course you did,“ Dom answered, his smile not faltering.

Gareth shifted and let his eyes wander. There were still a few customers around, standing in line at the remaining opened counter. He watched the young, blonde woman at the start of the line discussing with the bank clerk, waving her arms dramatically.

The bank clerk shook his head. Their discussion went on for a moment, before the woman gave up. She buried her hands in her grey cardigan and trudged past the line, cursing. Gareth’s eyes followed her past an old man, a business woman and to the man who stood at the end of the line. His hands where deep inside the pockets of his black jacket, a beanie pulled over his head and almost covering his eyes.

Gareth frowned and shifted again. The man lifted his head and turned it, looking directly at Gareth. Gareth’s lips twitched and he looked back at Fages. He had finished the form and the bank clerk had disappeared to fetch the wanted amount. She just returned from another room, a two thick envelopes in her hands.

She smiled her professional smile and handed the envelopes to Fages. He nodded and turned to give them to Dom. Smiling widely, Dom took them and opened one, peeking inside and taking out the wad of cash. Gareth swallowed. He had never seen this much money in one place before. He wondered if he should ask Dom if he could hold it for just one moment.

Just then, a loud bang rang through the building and panicked screams were heard from behind them. Gareth turned to see the bank clerk and the customers lying on the floor. Only the man who had stood at the end of the line remained standing, a gun in his hand.

The bank clerk next to them screamed and fell off her chair, cowering behind her desk.

„You,“ the man with the beanie snapped at the bank clerk behind the counter. „Go and empty your safes.“

The clerk nodded and rushed off, while the robber turned and looked directly at Dom.

„Give me your cash,“ the robber demanded.

Dom looked down at the money in his hands. He shoved it back into its envelope and pushed both the envelopes into the back pocket of his trousers.

„I don‘t see why I should,“ he answered and shifted away from Gareth. „Go and work for your own money.“

The robber snorted, his gun following Dom‘s way. „What about you give it to me and I won‘t kill you?“

Dom sighed. „What about you put that toy in your hand away and just walk out of this building?“

„Not without your money,“ the robber shouted and took a step closer to Dom.

„Listen, you‘re still young,“ Dom reasoned. He reached up, fingering with the pendants of his necklace. „Why would you spoil your life like that?“

„Don‘t you dare tell me what I should do with my life,“ the robber snapped.

Dom looked down, the pendant of a dog resting in his palm. He frowned. Sighing, he let the pendant slip from his hand, calling Matthew in this situation would be both futile and unwise. His eyes fell on Fages, who watched Dom‘s necklace closely.

Dom‘s frown deepened and he turned back to the robber. The man was glancing at Fages as well, as if waiting for a sign. Upon noticing Dom‘s eyes back on him, he growled and raised his gun, another loud bang ringing in the bank to the echo of screams.

Gareth shouted and jumped forward, trying to catch Dom before he hit the floor. He was too late though and fell to his knees next to the prone form of his landlord. He was aware of Fages kneeling down next to him as well, checking Dom‘s pulse while Gareth sat and shouted at Dom to move, clenching his fists in the leather of Dom‘s jacket. Fages shook his head.

A familiar growl was heard and Gareth looked up to find Matthew standing behind the robber, all of his wings wrapped around his body and only the eyes of his face staring at the robber, halo shining brighter than Gareth remembered it usually did.

The robber turned, staring wide-eyed at the seraph. „What?“

Matthew spread one pair of his wings and took a step closer to the robber. A bullet was fired in his direction, but it melted before it could come close to the seraph, liquid metal pooling on the floor. Matthew took another step forward, placing his foot carelessly on the hot metal and spreading a second pair of wings.

„I don‘t care if you‘ve been formed from a lump of clay,“ he growled, a third step bringing him closer to the robber, who fired two more bullets at him, which melted as soon as they left the gun, „carved from a piece of wood,“ another step, another pair of spread wings, „or if you‘ve crawled out of the water as a fish, I‘m going to end you now.“

Matthew opened the eyes in his wings, all of them glowing red. Gareth squeezed his eyes shut and dipped his head down, just before he heard the robber scream in agony, the screams of the other people in the bank chiming in to a cacophony.

Gareth opened his eyes again when they had stopped and only found a heap of ashes where the robber had stood. Matthew walked forward, kicking against the ashes and skittering them over the floor in the process. He stopped in front of Gareth, Dom and Fages, looking down at the dead body.

„Matthew…“ Gareth whispered.

Matthew ignored him and kicked against Dom‘s loins. „Get up, Donar,“ he snapped „You can stop being a lazy arse.“

Dom shifted and groaned, reaching up to rub the back of his head. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling. „So much for keeping a low profile,“ he groaned. „I fucking hate being shot.“

„You‘re immortal,“ Gareth gasped. He glanced at the still bleeding wound for a brief moment.

Dom turned his head towards him and winced. „In a way.“

„And what do we learn from this incident?“ Matthew said and knelt down to push Dom into a sitting position, ignoring the curses and groans. „Never leave home without your chain mail.“

Dom snorted. „As if I‘d like to have a horny seraph humping my leg everywhere I go.“

Matthew growled and let go of Dom, who fell back to the floor, hissing in pain. He weakly lifted his head and looked at the wound in his left chest: the stream of blood flowing from it had increased due to the sudden movement.

„Can you help me to sit up?“ he asked Gareth.

„Sure,“ Gareth answered and reached out, carefully pushing Dom into a sitting position and ignoring the wound.

„Does anyone have a knife?“ Dom asked.

„I‘ve got a penknife,“ Gareth answered and fumbled in his back pocket, trying to move as little as possible to not bring more pain to the man resting against him. He retrieved it and opened it, holding it out for Dom.

Grimacing, Dom took it and looked down at himself again. „Should get out of my shirt first.“

Matthew rolled his eyes and took the knife from Dom‘s hands. „Let me, you idiot.“

He cut open the shirt and pushed it to the side, revealing the deep wound left by the bullet. Matthew whistled. „Straight through the heart; this will hurt.“

„Whatever you do, don‘t pretend to have sympathy,“ Dom grunted.

Matthew chuckled and cut off a rather big part of Dom‘s shirt before scrunching it up and pushing it into Dom‘s mouth. He leant closer, whispering against Dom‘s ear, „Consider it payback for yesternight.“ He looked up at Gareth, grinning widely. „Hold him, and don‘t refrain from using force, can‘t have him thrashing about, can we?“

„What are you going to do?“ Gareth asked weakly, grabbing Dom‘s arms.

„Getting out the bullet,“ Matthew answered, grinning widely. „Unfortunately for Donar, it has pierced the heart.“ He lifted the knife, dragging the red-gleaming tip of a finger over its blunt side.

„But how can he…“ Gareth started.

„The heart is always the first thing that heals,“ Matthew explained, watching how the knife took on a red hue. „Everything else needs quite some time to heal. But the heart, it‘s usually working again within a minute.“

Gareth nodded. „So if the bullet is behind the heart…“

„Yepp,“ Matthew exclaimed and pushed the gleaming knife forward. „It has to come out through the heart again.“

Dom convulsed in Gareth’s arms, his scream barely muffled by the cloth in his mouth. Gareth heard something behind him fall to the floor with a dull thud. He swallowed and tried to force down his own nausea as a new surge of blood shot out of the wound, hitting against Matthew‘s arm and trickling down. Dom grew limp in his arms and Gareth relaxed his grip on him.

Matthew bent further down, carefully moving the knife and eventually sat back on his haunches. He let the bloody knife drop to the floor, little pieces of muscle and blood sticking to it. Gareth swallowed and focused on Matthew‘s face.

„The bullet still is in his body.“

„Yeah, but it‘s in front of the heart now,“ Matthew answered. He cocked his head and looked at the unconscious Viking in Gareth’s arms.

„Is he dead?“

Matthew nodded. „It‘ll take a bit longer for him to wake now, since the damage done by me is bigger than the damage done by the bullet.“

„You killed him,“ Fages whispered.

Matthew looked up and frowned at him. „It‘s not the first time I have,“ he said. Another grin split his face. „Donar always survived.“

Fages snorted, almost hysterically. „How can someone survive death?“

Matthew just rolled his eyes and looked back at Dom. „Guess I should be nice and get that bullet out before he wakes,“ he muttered.

Gareth laughed, feeling hysterical himself. „Being nice doesn‘t really sound like you.“

Chuckling, Matthew leant forward and pressed his lips against Gareth’s. „Sometimes I can be nice,“ he whispered, his tongue flicking out against Gareth‘s upper lip.

Smirking, he crouched down again and splayed his hand against Dom‘s chest just when the human stirred again. Matthew squinted up. „Just in time for the final removal,“ he announced.

Dom groaned and let his head loll against Gareth’s shoulder. He lifted his arm and pulled the gag out of his mouth. „You just couldn‘t let this chance to torture me pass, could you?“

„As a matter of fact, I was contemplating getting on with the procedure before you woke,“ Matthew stated. „I just had to greet our little Gareth properly.“

Dom sighed. „What are you waiting for then?“

Matthew grinned up at Gareth. „Hold him, and be careful he doesn‘t bite you.“

„What?“ Gareth asked.

„I don‘t…“ Dom started, but didn‘t manage to finish his sentence. Matthew‘s hand against Dom‘s chest started glowing, the eyes in his wings and halo shining in a light red, the colour a far cry from Matthew‘s usual sinful red.

Donar screamed and his body stiffened, his head thrashing about violently and against Gareth‘s neck and shoulder. He felt Dom‘s teeth scraping against his skin and yanked his head away, bending further down and trying to force Dom‘s arms into a still position.

Gareth had never thought Dom would be this strong. Sure, he knew that Dom was a proper Viking warrior and he had seen Dom wielding axes, but Gareth wouldn‘t have thought it‘d be this hard to keep him forced down.

Matthew stopped and reached for the bundle of cloth that Dom had discarded to push it back into his mouth. „And stop clenching your fists like that, you‘re destroying your hands again,“ he muttered.

Dom murmured something that was muffled by the gag. He reached up and clenched one hand around Matthew‘s shoulder, the other fisting in Matthew‘s hair. Gareth noticed that Dom‘s nails had broken the skin of his palms, leaving blood on Matthew‘s skin and in his hair.

The seraph pressed his hand against the wound again and Gareth heard soft sizzling before Dom‘s muffled screams filled his ears again. The Viking clenched his hands, yanking Matthew‘s head closer and bending it backwards. Matthew hissed, but didn‘t remove his hand from Dom‘s chest.

Gareth dared to squint down and noticed faint smoulder coming from beneath the pale hand. Eventually, Dom stilled with a shiver and let his hands fall from Matthew. He rolled his head to bury his face against the crook of Gareth‘s neck.

Matthew pulled his hand away, a small, silver pool of molten metal on his palm.

„Isn‘t that hot?“ Gareth asked.

Matthew nodded. „Yeah, but I‘m a creature made to burn at His throne. Cleansing fire and all that cal.“ He jerked his hand and the metal hit the floor, the soft carpet sizzling. „You can take the gag out.“

Gareth nodded and reached up to pull the soaked cloth out of Dom‘s mouth. Dom groaned and panted, his forehead falling against Gareth‘s neck. It was soaked with cold sweat.

„Of all things that could kill you,“ Dom panted, „bullets are the worst.“

Matthew laughed and sat back on his haunches, the eyes in his wings closing. He glanced down at the wound. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound still was far from healed, a deep hole still gracing Dom‘s flesh.

„We need to get you home,“ Matthew stated.

Dom groaned and pushed himself into a more upright position against Gareth. „I‘m afraid we need to buy some more honey, too.“

Matthew lifted one eyebrow, but before he could answer, Fages and stepped closer to them, staring down at Dom.

„Fascinating,“ he whispered. He looked at Matthew, his eyes taking in the naked seraph and admiring the six, black wings.

Matthew frowned and rolled his left shoulder back in a gesture of discomfort. He fought the urge to wrap one pair of his wings around himself.

„That‘s why he wasn‘t afraid of that robber,“ Fages said, still looking at Matthew.

„He‘s a Viking,“ Matthew snarled. „Have you ever met a Viking who‘s afraid of death?“

„I daresay I’ve never met a Viking,“ Fages said, almost tauntingly.

Matthew‘s frown deepened. He narrowed his eyes at Fages. „What have you done?“ He looked down at Dom, scanning the human for something that was off. „Where‘s your necklace?“ he asked.

Dom frowned and lifted his hand to reach for it, feeling around for the pendants. His fingers only met sweat-soaked skin and the cut remnants of his shirt. He turned his head and followed Matthew‘s eyes, finding his necklace in Fages‘ hands.

Fages smiled and knelt down, holding the necklace up. He turned to Matthew. „You‘ll find you‘ve got a new master now, demon.“

Matthew growled, the sound causing a shiver to run down Gareth‘s spine. He had never seen Matthew stare at someone this hostilely. To his surprise, Dom chuckled. He coughed and winced, shifting into a more comfortable position and grimacing.

„Of course, it had been your plan to get me killed, wasn‘t it?“ Dom wheezed. „You thought Matthew would be free to claim afterwards, didn‘t you?“

„I spent my night doing research,“ Fages said. „The tamed spirit becomes available after the master is dead. And how could someone pass up the chance to hold such power?“

„And you concluded that necklace is what I use to bind Matthew to me.“

Fages nodded and pushed himself into a standing position again. „And now it‘s mine. Your demon is mine.“

Dom laughed, the sound once again cut off by a coughing fit. „I‘m afraid you don‘t quite get the significance of the amulet,“ he said. „Or should I say, the insignificance?“

Fages frowned and looked from the necklace to Dom to Matthew. The seraph was still staring darkly. He was calm, Gareth noted, as if biding his time and just waiting for the ideal moment to strike. In that moment, Gareth only knew one word to describe the seraph: Terrifying.

„I don‘t need it to summon Matthew,“ Dom continued his explanation. „I only use it to tell him in which form I want him to appear. And you should never make the mistake of thinking of him as a demon.“

This caused Matthew to rise to his feet, spreading all of his wings. „I‘m not something you can hand over or steal just like that,“ he snarled. „Nor am I a demon.“ He took a step towards Fages and yanked the necklace out of unresisting fingers. „I‘m a fucking seraph and you will treat me with the due respect!“

The eyes in his wings shot open and more screams filled the bank as Fages went up in flames, clutching his throat and screaming. He reached for Matthew and managed to curl a burning hand around a pale wrist. Matthew looked down at his wrist, almost bored, and jerked his hand away.

Fages‘ fingers crumbled and floated in flakes of ash to the floor. Smirking, Matthew leant forward and lifted his right hand. He tapped gently against Fages‘ forehead and the scream stopped. Fages‘ eyes bulged and eventually popped, two sprinkles of ash mingling with the flames before the whole body was extinguished in silence. For a moment, the form of Fages was still recognisable.

A gentle gust of wind from Matthew’s lungs hit Fages‘ face and he crumbled, grey flakes littering the carpet.

Silence spread in the large room as everyone stared at Matthew. The seraph turned and bent down, yanking Dom into a standing position. Dom hissed and leant on Matthew, his arms clinging tightly to Matthew‘s waist to keep him upright.

The bank clerk who had woken in the meantime shuffled backwards, babbling at them to stay away from her. Dom sighed and looked down at Gareth. Groaning, he shifted out of his leather jacket and let it drop on Gareth.

„Your jacket is bloodied,“ he said. „Take mine.“

Gareth nodded and stood, slipping out of his jacket and into Dom‘s. It was still clammy with Dom‘s sweat, but at least it seemed to be mostly free of blood and the few splatters of blood weren‘t as visible on it than on his cord jacket.

Dom yanked off the ruined shirt and shuffled in front of Matthew. They turned to the assembled people in the bank.

„I‘m sorry,“ he addressed them, „but you will have to agree that I can‘t have you go about and gossip about what has happened in here.“

Begs and pleas started, each person in the bank scrambling on their knees and bargaining for their lives, offering what they thought most valuable. Dom ignored them and turned his head towards Gareth.

„Do you want to remember?“ he asked.

Gareth blinked. „What? What are you going to do?“

„Do you want to remember?“ Dom repeated his question. „I give you the choice.“

„Yes!“ Gareth shouted. „Yes, I want to remember!“

Dom grinned, obviously pleased by the answer. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out one of the envelopes, pushing it into Gareth‘s hand.

Gareth looked down at it, dumbly. „What?“

„Go home and buy some honey,“ Dom ordered. „You‘ll find the address for a good shop on the fridge. Just mention my name when you‘re in the shop and they‘ll get what you need. And get yourself a new jacket while you‘re out shopping.“

Gareth looked back at Dom. „But…“

„Go,“ Dom repeated, tone not leaving place for discussions. „The further away, the better. This spell will be potent and could catch up with you if you‘re not fast enough.“

Gareth nodded and shoved the envelope into the pocket of Dom‘s jacket before he rushed out of the bank. He looked back before he pushed through the door and found Dom standing with his head bent down, arms raised and held up by Matthew. He was humming and the runes on Dom‘s sides started gleaming in the same hue that Matthew‘s wings shone.

Gareth swallowed and rushed towards the station, remembering to put as much space between him and the pair as possible.

 

 

Several hours later, Dom and Gareth sat in the living room while Matthew was raiding the pantry.

„You erased their memories?“ Gareth asked.

Dom nodded and reclined against the backrest. He still didn‘t wear a shirt and a bandage that looked anything but sterile was pressed against his wound. Gareth had watched him and Matthew prepare honey minced with strange herbs before smearing the paste over —and into— the wound. Figuring that they had survived long enough to know what they were doing, Gareth had bit his tongue and just watched.

„They won‘t even remember that Fages ever existed,“ Dom answered. „They also won‘t remember that we ever crossed their path.“

Gareth nodded. He drew his feet onto the seat, hugging his knees.

„How are you feeling?“ Dom asked.

Gareth shrugged. „A lot happened today. I mean, you got shot, Matthew killed two men, not demons, but actual humans…“

„If you want to forget anything, just tell me,“ Dom said.

Gareth shook his head. „No, I chose to dip my toes into this world, so I can‘t go and forget parts of it, can I?“

Dom laughed, but winced after a moment and shifted. „You know, you‘re quite earning my respect here.“

Gareth blushed and dipped his head.

„You still should learn a few defence mechanisms, though,“ Dom said. „Especially since you chose to immerse yourself deeper into this world. You‘ve reached the point of no return here. I won‘t ask you if you want to return again, because that‘d only seal your death sentence. Are you aware of that?“

Gareth nodded and swallowed. „This is real, it‘s a part of reality. I can‘t run away from it. I don‘t want to run away from it.“

Dom smiled and nodded. He leant forward, wincing, but extended his hand towards Gareth.

Hesitantly, Gareth leant forward and took it.

„Welcome to the world of gods, demons, angels and all between, Gareth Brennan,“ Dom said. „I‘m Donar Wælhrafnson, currently known as Dominic Howard.“

Gareth smiled tentatively.

„I never understood why you chose this name of all names,“ Matthew said from the doorframe. He walked into the living room, a basket full of sponge cakes, honey and mead in his hands.

„Because it‘s similar in sound and meaning,“ Dom grunted. „Didn‘t take too much getting used to.“

Matthew shrugged and fell to the sofa next to Dom, spreading the contents of the basket on the table.

„What have you done to the necklace?“

„What do you think?“ Matthew asked while unscrewing one of the two flasks of mead.

„You burnt it, didn‘t you?“

„Of course,“ Matthew answered and took a large swig.

Dom sighed and reached for the glass of mead he had fetched earlier. „Shame. Don‘t tell Yakov, though. He‘ll be mad at having it lost so completely.“

Matthew laughed and reached for a spoon and a big jar of honey. „By the way, why did we have to stock up on honey? I thought we had enough for a while.“

„I prepared some more sack mead while you were out sulking,“ Dom answered.

„Did you?“ Matthew asked, grinning widely.

Dom nodded. „Will take some time until it‘s finished, as you know.“

„The big carboy?“

Dom nodded again.

Gareth watched them, wondering if this was how they showed that they actually cared about each other. No excuses, no apologies or thanks exchanged; just the absence of abuse and threats for an evening. Or maybe sometimes, they just forget that they were supposed to snap at each other and behaved almost civil around each other.

He watched Matthew bent down again and pull out a box filled with something that looked suspiciously like dried caterpillars.

„So you found them,“ Dom stated.

Matthew nodded and unscrewed the box. He took out one of the small things and held it up against the lamp. Gareth saw that it wasn‘t a caterpillar, rather something dried consisting of tiny, reddish-beige pearls. „Lady Darklis‘ finest I presume?“

„Of course,“ Dom answered.

„What are they?“ Gareth asked and let his feet fall to the floor again to lean closer.

Matthew sniggered and moved around the table, sitting on Gareth‘s lap within a few moments, the box with the dried things in his hands.

„Dried mulberries,“ he said and pushed one of them against Gareth‘s lips.

Gareth squinted up at the grinning seraph, wondering if he could trust Matthew in this moment. Eventually, he parted his teeth and allowed Matthew to push the berry inside. He chewed carefully, almost surprised when he wasn‘t met with something disgusting, but with sweetness. He hummed and swallowed.

„They‘re nice,“ he admitted.

Matthew grinned and stuffed a few mulberries into his mouth. „Did you think I‘d eat anything that‘s not good?“

Gareth shook his head.

Matthew squinted down and chuckled when he found Gareth‘s arms resting lightly around his waist. He leant forward, brushing his lips against Gareth‘s. „Did you miss me?“ he asked.

Gareth swallowed and dipped his head back, blushing. Eventually, he nodded.

„Aaaw,“ Matthew purred and grabbed Gareth‘s hair, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss against Gareth‘s lips. He pulled back when he felt Gareth‘s hands on his back and was gone the moment after, sitting next to Dom on the sofa with his box of mulberries.

„What was that for?“ Gareth asked.

„Just felt like it,“ Matthew answered and turned his whole attention to his dried fruits.


	8. Against the Night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another, not pleasant, Peek into the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this time the name‘s directly taken from the song giving that Webley album it‘s name. There‘s another song, Again the Night, just in case I end up using that as well, which I most likely will, which has the same melody, but different length, lyrics and style of singing. Just so you know. :P There‘s also a song Lullaby on the album, which is the same melody, without lyrics and in the style of a musical box.

„Donar! Call your bird back!“

Donar sighed and looked up from his skeggöx that he had been sharpening. Matthew hadn‘t made his life easy at all. Even on the battlefield, he was a double-edged sword. He often had turned a battle in their favour, but inflicting fire on the battlefield led to loss on both sides.

Matthew also grew bored too fast. If he wasn‘t entertained, he‘d go and steal most of the settlement‘s mead and honey. Alternately, he went and bothered anyone he could find. Adallfinna especially had too much of his attention.

When Donar arrived at Adallfinna‘s room, he found her and Matthew arguing, Adallfinna pressing the bundle of her firstborn son close to her.

Donar sighed again. Adallfinna was a gentle woman, a good wife and an excellent mother, but Matthew always managed to rile her up enough to forget her virtue.

Donar dashed forward and hit the handle of his axe against Matthew‘s temple. The seraph turned towards him, lunging forward and clawing at Donar‘s throat. The formerly white stripes on his arms had become tinted completely black a few months back.

Dodging the attack, Donar rammed the handle of his axe up and against Matthew‘s chin. The seraph stumbled backwards, glaring at Donar and all of his wings spread.

„Don‘t you dare set fire to this house,“ Donar shouted. He rushed forward and grabbed Matthew‘s hair, dragging the screaming and thrashing seraph outside and towards the little well. It used to be made of wood, but since Donar had pushed the furious angel into it for the first time, they had built one of stone.

Donar reached the well and pushed Matthew down. The seraph landed on his knees and grabbed the stones to prevent himself from being pushed inside.

„Behave, or next time it‘s the water again,“ Donar hissed into Matthew‘s ear.

Matthew turned his head and shook his wings, pouting. He pushed himself into a standing position again and pressed his body against Donar‘s. „Maybe I‘d behave more if you finally let me have you,“ he purred.

Donar snorted and pushed Matthew away. „How many times do I have to tell you that I don‘t care for your tiny ass? You‘re not going to have me, and I‘m not going to fuck you.“

Matthew‘s pout increased and he flapped his wings, just opening his mouth to argue when a scream came from within the long house. Donar turned and ran towards the source of the scream and found a woman standing with her back to the wall. One of the warriors, Godgyfu, was standing in front of her, a long sword in his left hand and an axe in his right hand.

Donar frowned. No one could lift any of those weapons this easily. He and Kvigbjörn rushed forward to pull Godgyfu back, but he shook them off and took another step forward, letting the axe fall down onto the woman‘s head.

A few metres away, a boy started to cry and Donar recognised him as Godgyfu‘s son. He looked back at the dead woman, recognising her as Godgyfu‘s wife.

„Why?“ he heard Kvigbjörn whisper next to him.

Chuckling, Godgyfu turned around and grinned, his eyes burning red.

„What‘s wrong with him?“ Donar asked, shuddering. He took a step backwards, disturbed by the fire glaring at him.

„It‘s a demon,“ Matthew whispered next to him.

„What?“ Donar asked without turning. Matthew had told him about the war between Heaven and Hell, how angels had fallen and turned into demons. But he‘d never have thought he’d be confronted with one of those in his own village.

„ Leraikha “ Matthew said, „ Leraikha has taken possession of him.“

Godgyfur laughed. „That‘s right, seraph Matthew.“ His eyes fell on the marks on Matthew‘s arms. „And it seems you‘re going to join our ranks soon.“

Matthew shook his head and moved his wings to hide the marks on his arms. „I‘m not joining any ranks.“

Godgyfur laughed again and threw his sword towards the crying boy. It pierced through the boy‘s throat before anyone could react.

„You won‘t have a choice, I‘m afraid.“

Roaring, Donar and Kvigbjörn dashed forward, seizing Godgyfur‘s arm with the axe. The possessed man just laughed. More men were running towards them to pull Godgyfur to the ground.

„Get out!“ Donar heard Matthew shout. „Get out, you fools!“

He chanced a glance at the seraph, finding his whole body surrounded by a red glow, the eyes of his wings wide and gleaming red. Donar nudged Kvigbjörn‘s arm and jerked his head towards Matthew. Kvigbjörn nodded and they tried to pull Godgyfur towards the entrance of the long house.

A tortured wail escaped Godgyfur‘s throat and the body heated up, flames crawling from his eyes over his arms. Screaming, the Vikings let go of the warrior and stumbled backwards. The long wail continued, while Godgyfur pressed his eyes closed in an attempt to seal the fire inside.

„Get your weapon,“ Kvigbjörn shouted and dashed off towards his abode, while screaming at Adallfinna to take their son and flee.

Donar ran off in the direction of his hut; the last thing he saw of Godgyfur were flames bursting out of his eyes, scorching the eyelids and reaching out to burn anything close to him. He dashed towards the chest where his beloved skeggöx waited and yanked it out just when the roof above him burst into flames and collapsed onto him.

 

 

Donar coughed, smoke filling his lungs. He shifted and hit something warm that crumbled beneath his hand. Confused, he blinked and sat up, the stars and moon shining down on him. It took a few moments until he remembered.

Godgyfur. Leraikha. The long house.

Donar looked around and shook his head. He saw ashes and dark forms that might have been bars and baulks once. Weakly, he got to his feet and stumbled forward, his feet hitting against a lump of metal that roughly reminded him of his skeggöx. He let his eyes wander again, hoping to find anyone alive.

Eventually, his eyes alighted on a dark lump that he had mistaken for a heap of ashes. He stumbled towards Matthew, who sat on a beam wrapped in his wings and eyes closed.

„I should be dead,“ Donar whispered after he had sunk down next to Matthew. „That roof should have killed me…“

„You can‘t die as long as we‘re bound,“ Matthew whispered.

„And what have you done?“ Donar snapped. He turned towards Matthew and pushed him to the ground. „Have you even done anything to help us? Or have you just done your part to increase the fire?“

„I have not burnt anything,“ Matthew snapped. He shoved Donar off him, wincing.

Donar frowned and looked down, noticing the burnt, dark skin on Matthew‘s arm, the mark on it shining white. „Just because you can‘t die, doesn‘t mean you can‘t get burnt beyond recognition,“ Matthew hissed. „Think about that before accusing me.“

Donar stared at Matthew.

„Let‘s leave,“ he eventually said.

 

 

A few weeks had passed since the settlement had burnt down and Donar had found shelter in Adallfinna‘s old village. The people there were wary about him and Matthew, whispering behind their backs and speculating about what might have happened, why Donar and this strange creature were the only survivors.

Donar just let them talk. He didn‘t care for their rumours, he only knew that one day, he would kill Leraikha. Revenge would be his.

Matthew was foul-tempered, snapping at everyone and not even bothering with trying to seduce anyone. Donar almost started to feel worried about the seraph.

One night, he sat in the small hut that Geirr, Adallfinna‘s father, had given to Donar, and stared at Matthew. The seraph had stolen a few flasks of mead and was halfway through the second.

„Give me some of that,“ Donar said and held his hand out.

Matthew looked up and frowned. He looked down at the flasks on the floor. Slowly, the smirk that Donar knew so well found its way onto his features again. He downed the remnants of the flask in his hand and grabbed two full ones before making his way towards Donar‘s sleeping alcove.

He crawled inside, took a mouthful of mead and pressed their lips together. Donar felt the tepid liquid being forced into his mouth, the sweetness of it as intoxicating as the alcohol in it. He lifted his hands and put them on Matthew‘s shoulder, pushing the seraph to lie on his back.

They broke, smirking at each other.

„That‘s some strong mead,“ Donar said.

Matthew shrugged. „Mead‘s the only alcoholic beverage I don‘t get drunk on.“

Donar shrugged and reached for the open flask, finding most of its content spilled onto the rug in the alcove. He sighed, put the flask against his lips and threw his head back, downing the content.

He threw the flask away once he was done and looked down at Matthew.

„I want to have you,“ Donar drawled.

Matthew pouted. „Don‘t you think it‘d be more fun if I was on top?“

Donar shook his head and grabbed Matthew‘s shoulder, pulling at him and urging him to turn around. „Certainly not.“

Sighing, Matthew complied and turned, stretching his backside and cursing when his wings hit against the wall of the alcove.

Donar chuckled and leant over Matthew‘s form, one of his hands finding its way to the front of Matthew‘s abdomen.

Mattthew moaned and rolled his head back when he felt Donar‘s touch on him. „You need to get out of your trousers still,“ he moaned.

Donar nodded and let go of Matthew, sliding out of the alcove and loosening the thread in his trousers. They fell to the floor and Donar stepped out of them. He paused, looking down at Matthew. The seraph was kneeling on all fours, his wings spread as far as possible in the restraints of the alcove and smirking back at him.

„Get some rugs and onto the floor,“ Donar said. „That way you can at least spread your wings.“

Chuckling, Matthew saluted and slid out of the alcove, dragging a few of the rugs with him. He let them fall to the floor and knelt down, wings spread and all eyes trained on Donar.

Donar walked around Matthew, taking in the seductive angel. If he was honest, it had been hard to resist him, the pale skin luring anyone who laid eyes on the seraph in. Donar‘s eyes fell on the blind eye in Matthew‘s premiers. The seraph had always refused to answer Donar‘s questions about this particular eye, so the human had given up after a while.

Matthew‘s eyes carefully followed Donar‘s way around until the human had knelt down. Donar reached out, running his hands over Matthew‘s wings and eventually over his back until they settled on Matthew‘s hips.

Leaning forward, Donar bent Matthew down and whispered into his ear, „Do you want to know your final verdict?“ He felt Matthew tense and the seraph closed all of his eyes before Donar continued, „You‘re going wherever I am going.“

Matthew‘s eyes shot open and he screamed, twisting in Donar‘s arms. He slumped forward, whimpering and clutching at the marks on his arms. They were fading, only leaving the marks of Matthew‘s fingers.

„So that‘s what His great plan was,“ Matthew hissed, coming to lie on his side, curled up and shaking.

Donar reached out, but hesitated before touching. „Matthew?“

Light filled the room and Donar heard Michael speak from behind. „Yes, you would never fall to the darkness that easily.“

„You deceiving, little piece of shit,“ Belial‘s voice hissed viciously. „He belongs to us!“

„No, he belongs to Donar now,“ Michael said.

Donar frowned and turned to look at the angel. „What?“

„Oh, Matthew, had you behaved, you could be free now, but you continued your sinful path,“ Michael addressed the shaking seraph. „Don‘t say we never gave you the chance.“

„I’ll fucking end you!“ Matthew hissed. He managed to roll onto his front and pushed himself onto his hands and knees.

„And here we‘ve got Ira!“ Belial exclaimed. „Another one of the damned Peccatum Mortiferum! By all rights, he belongs to us now!“

„Donar, touch him,“ Michael ordered.

Without thinking, Donar reached out to comply, but hesitated when Matthew hissed at him.

„Don‘t fucking touch me!“

„Donar, you are to exercise His will,“ Michael said. „Mark Seraph Matthew.“ He disappeared again without any other explanation.

„He‘s yours now,“ Belial chuckled and leant forward to purr into Donar‘s ear. „God himself has made him yours, claim your possession, boy.“

„Fuck off,“ Matthew shouted.

„Oh Matthew, proud, proud Matthew standing atop the angel hierarchy, most despicable of all fallen angels,“ Belial sung. „To be marked by a human boy. What a deep fall this is. Even if we can‘t have you for us yet, witnessing this downfall is most satisfactory.“

He disappeared in a cloud of black smoke again and Donar and Matthew were left alone once again. Donar cowered in front of Matthew, hand reaching out, but not touching yet.

„What‘s this about?“

„You passed your verdict, now fucking go through with it,“ Matthew snarled.

„How?“

„Just touch me, draw your mark on my skin if you must,“ Matthew hissed. „But don‘t expect me to go out of my way for you. I might be soul-bound for eternity now, but I‘m not willingly your slave.“

Donar ran his hands over his face, trying to understand what those freaking angels and demons had thrown at him once again. He looked up at Matthew again, smirking.

„I‘d be immortal as long as we‘re bound?“

Matthew nodded darkly.

Donar leant forward, their lips almost touching. „I could use you for my revenge on Leraikha.“

Matthew snorted. „If that‘s all you‘re concerned about, that could be acquired without you binding yourself for eternity.“

„I know, it‘s just a nice addition,“ Donar stated. He leant back on his haunches, smirking down at the glaring seraph. „Wherever my hands touch you, there will be marks?“

„Yes,“ Matthew growled.

„I see,“ Donar nodded. He breathed in deep. „Turn around.“

Matthew frowned, not moving yet. „What are you going to do?“

„Pick up where we were so rudely disturbed,“ Donar answered, still smirking.

„No!“

„Turn around, Matthew,“ Donar repeated his order, „you pride yourself on lust, you shall wear it‘s marks.“

„I will not…“

„You will,“ Donar cut into Matthew‘s complaint, „unless you want the imprints of my hands all over your body because I have to push you into the right position.“

Matthew glared at Donar for a moment before moving, turning and leaning forward. Donar made to move towards Matthew, but was halted again.

„I‘ll have to stretch myself,“ Matthew said.

„I could do it for you,“ Donar offered, smiling sweetly and wiggling his fingers.

Matthew glowered at him. „I‘ll do it myself.“ He reached for the full flask of mead and spilled some of it onto his fingers before moving them back and pushing one inside. He hissed softly, but moved the finger deeper nevertheless. After a while, he added a second finger, scissoring them.

Eventually, Matthew leant back and removed his hand from himself, glancing down at Donar‘s flesh. „Someone‘s hard already,“ he commented.

Growling, Donar reached out and pulled Matthew closer, his hands gripping Matthew‘s waist tightly. Matthew hissed, the sting of being penetrated mingling with the burning caused by Donar‘s hands. He leant his head back, eyes closed and allowed himself to relax, allowing Donar to set the pace.


	9. That‘s not my Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Story starts to unravel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really most be the most fast-moving story I‘ve got so far. I mean… How long am I writing on it, and I‘m already in chapter eight? Wow.
> 
> This chapter‘s title is from the Ting Tings. Anyone remember that song from a few years back? Used to be pretty inevitable and rather catchy.
> 
> Anyways, slight change of perspective from the usual suspects (aka Gareth and Dom) to a very suspicious suspect (aka Matthew). After all, there‘s his story to be told as well.

_„You love someone else!“_

_„I care for him!“_

_„You rotten creation, you not only veer from the way given to you, you also lead him astray!“_

_He stood, hidden and his eyes closed, all but one that sat low on his last premiers. He slowly opened it, curiosity and worry getting the better of him. Immediately, he was met with scorching white._

_He pressed one fist into his mouth to stop himself from screaming out, the pain from his lowest eye searing through his body and numbing him. He fell to his knees, shaking and feeling cold just as a high-pitched scream hit his ears._

_Screaming into his fist, he wrapped his wings around himself and cowered down, all the while refusing to close the one eye that was the cause of his own pain. He would never forget this day, the now useless eye a permanent reminder.  
_

 

Matthew woke with an unfamiliar hand on his shoulder. He looked up and stared at a face framed by dark, brown hair and into wide, watery-blue eyes. He emitted a low growl and the hand was quickly removed from his shoulder.

„Everything okay?“ Gareth asked. „You‘ve been thrashing about and shouting.“

Matthew grunted and stretched in his hammock, glancing at the clock on the old bookshelf. Six A.M. This was Gareth‘s time to leave for work as Matthew had learned over the previous months. He shifted onto all fours and stretched his back, flapping his wings.

„Nevermind,“ he grunted and turned into a raven.

He flew upstairs and stopped in front of Donar‘s room, charging back before he landed. Matthew opened the door and carefully slid inside, silently closing it again. He took in the peacefully sleeping man, contemplating what he should do for a moment.

Matthew shrugged. He was already banned from heaven for the worst crime possible, so what could he lose? There was no harm in indulging himself. Smiling to himself, he slid underneath the blanket and shifted closer to Donar, his arms around Donar‘s waist and keeping him close. He rested his head on Donar‘s shoulder and drifted to sleep again.

 

_  
Matthew stood at the front of the longship and looked up at the dragon head that graced it. He smirked. More than anyone on this ship he knew where they were headed. He chuckled. If they had thrown him out of hell for the worst crime committable, they could watch him revel in it and cultivate it._

_He felt the wind in his hair and wings and spread them, all eyes trained on the tiny stripe of green on the horizon. He heard footsteps behind him and felt a warm hand press against the marks on his hips._

_„Getting excited?“ Donar purred into his ear from behind._

_Matthew chuckled. „Why, yes. You know what we‘ll find there, don‘t you?“_

_Donar shrugged. „I think I heard talk about some kind of religious building.“_

_Matthew chuckled again and turned, grinning widely. „Exactly.“_

_Donar narrowed his eyes. „Don‘t tell me it‘s your religion we‘re going to visit.“_

_Smirking, Matthew leant his head closer and flicked his tongue against Donar‘s upper lip. „We are.“_

_„I wonder why they didn‘t want you anymore,“ Donar said and removed himself from Matthew‘s hold to lean on the rail. „Shouldn‘t be long now.“_

__

 

__

 

_Matthew cowered in front of the altar, screams and shouts mingling with the sounds of metal tearing through soft tissue. He picked up a chalice, turning it over in his hands and sniffing at it. Definitely gold. He tossed it into the sack with the other loot and rose into a standing position._

_He turned, looking over the Vikings and monks, smirking when he saw the floor covered with blood, guts and limbs, some of the bodies lying lifeless, others twitching and groaning._

_A monk who lay on the floor only a few metres from Matthew coughed, spilling blood on the floor, and dragged himself towards Matthew, one of his hands extended. Matthew stood and looked down at the monk as if curious about how far the dying human would come._

_Eventually, a hand landed on Matthew‘s foot, another hand grabbing his ankle._

_„You‘re a seraph…“ the monk coughed, spitting blood over Matthew‘s foot._

_Matthew grinned broadly and shook his foot free from the monk‘s hold. „Yes,“ he drawled. He placed his foot against the monk‘s forehead and pushed him back, only chuckling when he heard a pained groan from the man._

_„Why are you doing this?“ the monk asked. „You should be protecting us.“_

_„Because this is more fun,“ Matthew answered and opened the eyes in his wings. The man at his feet went up in flames, screaming._

_Matthew didn‘t stay behind to watch his victim burn. He picked up the sack of loot and shouldered it, walking down the aisle and towards Donar, who was busy tying two monks up._

_Something grabbed the premiers of his lowest pair of wings and Matthew stopped, glaring down at the monk that dared to touch him._

_„Let. Go. Of. My. Wings,“ Matthew hissed._

_„You‘re a creature born of His love…“ the monk said weakly, still holding on to Matthew‘s feathers._

_Matthew growled, his wings twitching. He let them warm up, wondering how long this putrid piece of clay could stand holding on to his feathers._

_„Matthew!“ Donar called._

_The seraph turned towards the human, opening his mouth to snap when the monk at his feet hissed something._

_„Matthew? There never was a seraph Matthew.“_

_Matthew froze and looked down at the man. „What are you saying?“_

_„There are only four seraphim and none of them is called Matthew,“ the monk answered and glared at Matthew._

_Matthew stood, staring down at the man, the hand on his wings forgotten for a moment. „They… erased me?“_

_„You are an imposer, a liar, a demon. The Lord will bring punishment over you.“_

_Growling, Matthew flapped his wings and watched the monk burn. He let the loot fall to the floor and rushed towards where he knew the library could be found._

_Ignoring the sounds of battle and death, Matthew flipped through the books, burning each one when he didn‘t find what he was looking for. Eventually, Donar entered the room to find Matthew in a heap of ashes, the last remaining book going up in flames in his hands._

_„Matthew?“_

_„There‘s no sign of me, no trace,“ Matthew muttered without turning to face Donar. He wrapped his wings around himself, listening to Donar‘s footsteps walking around and stopping in front of him._

_„You said you didn‘t care for…“_

_Matthew looked up at Donar, snapping, „They‘re denying my very existence!“_

_Donar shrugged. „You‘re not part of their religion any longer.“_

_Matthew snorted. „And still Michael and Belial are courting me?“ He picked up some of the ash and watched it slip through his fingers. „They want to win me over, but anything that mentions me is deleted from collective human consciousness?“_

_„Isn‘t that what you wanted?“ Donar asked. „To break with them?“_

_„Yes, I wanted to be known as a fallen angel. I want to be known as someone despicable.“_

_„So they made sure you couldn‘t pride yourself on that any longer,“ Donar concluded._

_Matthew growled and threw the remaining heap of ash in his hand away from himself. It didn‘t fly far, gently floating towards the ash-covered floor almost immediately._

_„Come on, seraph, let‘s go home,“ Donar said and patted Matthew‘s head. „I still know you, don‘t I?“_

_Matthew snorted and batted Donar‘s hand away. „What fame is there to gain if you‘re known to barbarians?“ He rose to his feet and followed Donar nevertheless without further complaints.  
_

 

„Are you dreaming again?“

Matthew blinked and shifted, shivering. He sniffed and ruffled his wings, wondering why he was cold and wet and where the burnt smell was coming from. He turned and found Donar standing next to the bed, an empty bucket in his hands.

Matthew growled. „What was that for?“

Donar pointed at the bed behind Matthew with the bucket. „You were burning my bed.“

Matthew turned his head and found the mattress and bed sheets beneath his wings burnt. He shrugged and rolled out of bed. „You could have woken me,“ he stated.

Donar snorted. „Of course, and then watch the whole house burn down.“ He walked out of the room, calling over his shoulder. „This way I got you to wake up and save my house.“

Grumbling, Matthew sat up and followed him, standing in the doorframe to the bathroom and watching Donar put the bucket into the bathtub to let it dry. Donar turned and lifted an eyebrow. „What were you dreaming about this time? Your eye?“

Matthew shook his head. „Well, when I was downstairs, yes,“ he admitted and crossed his arms while Donar walked passed him and towards the staircase. „This time, I dreamt about Lindisfarne.“

Donar hummed. „I see.“

Matthew huffed and walked after Donar, galled by the Viking‘s disinterest. But what did he expect? He certainly didn‘t need sympathy from anyone, even less from a Viking who kept claiming the seraph as his. He just wanted to be left alone and…

Matthew‘s steps faltered. He didn‘t know what he wanted anymore. He had lived this life so long that he didn‘t even remember what he had wanted to start with. Apart from making a point.

Something had changed over the last hundred years or so, and he didn‘t exactly know what.

Donar squinted sideways at Matthew and stopped. He extended his hand, running a finger over the mark on Matthew‘s hip, the familiar tingling spreading from his fingertips.

Matthew growled and pushed Donar against the wall, pressing their lips together and forcing his tongue into Donar‘s mouth. Donar‘s tongue pushed against his, teeth nipping at lips.

„That what you want?“ Donar growled once they broke. He grabbed Matthew‘s hips and turned him around to lean on the rail of the staircase, hands grabbing Matthew‘s hips harshly.

Instead of a verbal answer, Matthew arched his back and pushed closer to Donar.

„Come on, give it to me, old Viking,“ Matthew snarled. The hands on his hips tightened, almost painfully and he felt the tingling from Donar‘s hands increase, a familiar promise.

„You better watch your mouth, seraph,“ Donar hissed into Matthew‘s ear, biting down on his earlobe.

Matthew moaned and leant his head back, wings spreading and eyes wide open. „That all you got?“ he teased. This was what he wanted, what he craved right now; strong hands on him, rough teeth against his skin, hard flesh inside him.

Donar chuckled darkly and fisted a hand in Matthew‘s hair, yanking it back. He ran his free hand over Matthew‘s chest, taking his time to tease, stroking over nipples and collarbones, before dragging his fingertips over Matthew‘s throat and plunging between parted lips.

Matthew wrapped his tongue around the digits, knowing he wouldn‘t be given much time to lather the fingers in saliva. Sure enough, Donar removed the fingers quickly and changed his grip from Matthew‘s hair to his throat, keeping the seraph close while pushing two fingers inside.

Matthew shivered and hissed, grabbing the rail tighter.

„You like that, huh?“ Donar snarled into his ear and moved his fingers inside Matthew, scissoring them and pushing deeper to stroke against the prostate.

Matthew groaned and pushed against Donar‘s fingers, the burn of the penetration as welcome as the promise of pleasure. He moved his wings, hitting them against Donar in a request to hurry up.

Chuckling, Donar removed his fingers and grabbed Matthew‘s hips while pushing inside. He stilled once he was sheathed and moved the hand from Matthew‘s hips to rest against his forehead, keeping Matthew close to him and his head leant back by his throat and forehead.

„Stop looking for your place,“ Donar hissed and snapped his hips forward. „ _This_ is your place.“ Another snap of hips and Matthew cried out when Donar hit his prostate. „They won‘t succeed in claiming you back. Your place is by my side.“

Matthew closed his eyes, hands tightening even more around the rail. His head rested against Donar‘s shoulder, the strain of the position putting his own shoulder in pain. He couldn‘t even reach back to fist his hands in Donar‘s hair or curl his hands around Donar‘s throat if he didn‘t want to risk tumbling down the stairs.

He groaned, feeling Donar moving against and inside him before the Viking stilled and something warm filled Matthew.

Donar pulled out and slumped against the wall behind, panting. Matthew rolled his shoulders and grimaced at the feeling of Donar‘s semen running down his legs. He turned just in time to see Donar descending the stairs.

„OI!“ Matthew shouted. „What do you think you‘re doing?“

Donar chuckled. „Going to get breakfast, what did you think?“ he answered without turning back.

„Like fuck you will,“ Matthew snarled and rushed after him, coming to stand in front of Donar just before the kitchen door. He pointed at his own hard on. „You‘re going to take care of this before thinking about anything else.“

Donar just laughed and reached past Matthew, pushing the door handle and sending Matthew stumbling backwards into the kitchen. Matthew caught himself and followed Donar to the cupboard. He reached out, curling his hands around Donar‘s throat from behind and yanked him back.

Donar turned and shoved Matthew away, stumbling after the seraph when Matthew refused to let go of Donar‘s throat. Matthew hit the edge of the table and leant back, pulling Donar on top of him.

„Get your hands on my cock,“ Matthew snarled against Donar‘s lips.

Chuckling, Donar reached down and squeezed Matthew‘s shaft. The seraph winced.

„If you want me to do something about this state of yours, let go of my throat.“

Growling, Matthew loosened his hold, but didn‘t remove his hands. „Go on.“

Donar rolled his eyes and changed his hold on Matthew, pressing his thumb into the tip of Matthew‘s hard flesh, his fingers tracing the veins along the shaft.

Groaning, Matthew leant his head back and pulled Donar closer. He shivered when he felt Donar‘s free hand roaming his wings and tracing feathers in the same steady rhythm as Donar ran his hand along Matthew‘s flesh.

„Fuck,“ Matthew whispered and arched into Donar‘s touch, bucking his hips. He let go of Donar‘s throat, delighted when he felt Donar‘s lips on his chest, nipping along collarbones and settling for a nipple, lapping at the hard nub.

Donar bit down just as he tightened his hand on a downward stroke, his hand against Matthew‘s feathers flattening.

He came over Donar‘s hand and lay, tolerating Donar wiping his hand on his leg for the time being, just lying and basking in his afterglow.

„Move,“ Donar‘s voice broke through his blissful state of ignorance, „unless you want me to set the table on your wings.“

Growling, Matthew pushed himself into a sitting position and turned into a raven. He flew back into the living room and curled up in his hammock, intent on spending the day as lazy as possible, drifting in and out of sleep until Gareth returned. Matthew smirked.

That boy was his. Gareth only needed to realise it himself.

 

_  
Matthew sat on the branch of a tree, peering through the small window into the room where Donar hung, restrained at his wrists, a ball of metal hanging from his bound feet. He wondered when Donar would call for him. But maybe Donar was waiting for Matthew to come on his own._

_He croaked and shuffled his wings. As if that‘d happen. He wouldn‘t rush after that foolish human to save him from something he could have easily avoided. Everyone knew it was a bad idea to stay away from the public gathering that the inquisition organised first thing after their arrival in town._

_Since Donar had been the only of the townspeople missing, they had come to him without any prompting. The local rumours about Donar being able to talk to ravens and huge black dogs didn‘t help, Matthew figured. Nor did a name as Donar‘s help to be less suspicious._

_Something happened inside the room and Matthew shifted on his branch to gain better sight. One of the clerics entered the sparse room and addressed Donar, most likely asking him to repent. Donar laughed and answered, even if it was strained from the position he was in._

_The cleric shook his head and stepped back, winking someone else into view. Two bigger men came into view and fumbled with the metal rings around Donar‘s wrists. The restraints opened and Donar fell to the floor, trying to catch himself before his face hit the floor. Due to the strain his arms had been subjected to over hours, they wouldn‘t support him, though, and he fell, the side of his face hitting the floor._

_Donar looked out of the window, his eyes immediately finding Matthew. The raven croaked and ruffled his wings. He watched the clerics setting to work on the weight on Donar‘s ankles before dragging him into a different room._

_Matthew shifted again, weighting Donar‘s options. The chance for_ light _punishment was long gone by now and the longer Donar held out, the more likely would be death penalty._

_Matthew cursed inwardly. He couldn‘t care less if Donar ended up as a walking piece of coal for months to come, but it‘d make things harder for Matthew, too. No mead, no food if Donar couldn‘t get out and amongst people._

_Croaking angrily, Matthew took off and flew to the small window, pausing to sit on the sill and peer into the sparse room. He cocked his head, listening to the voices coming from next door._

_„Donar Wælhrafnson, will you confess to your sins and repent?“_

_A familiar snort was the answer to that question. „I thought you guys only came for Christians,“ he snapped. A low groan followed._

_Matthew hopped towards the door and peeked into the room. Two clerics had strapped that stupid Viking to a rack, arms and legs tied. The third of them was turning the handle, supplying more pressure on Donar‘s muscles._

_Matthew rolled his eyes. That stubborn twat should just tell them what they wanted to hear and be over with it. The more torture he put himself through, the longer the healing process would take, the longer Matthew had to worry about getting their food._

_„What are you still wasting your time on this one?“ a new voice came and the clerics turned towards the door. A man in a robe cowl identical to the other three clerics stepped inside the room and walked over to the rack._

_Matthew shifted uneasily and retreated further into the room where he had come from. There was something familiar and unsettling about this man._

_„We‘re trying to save him,“ the smallest of the clerics answered._

_The newcomer snorted and took a step closer to the rack, grinning down at the strapped down Viking. Donar narrowed his eyes and growled._

_„He‘s a lost cause.“_

_Matthew saw an arm move, something silver glimmering in the torch light and Donar screamed._

_„Brother Romuald,“ one of the clerics uttered. „Bloodshed is not allowed…“_

_Brother Romuald laughed and turned to face the three men while twisting the knife in Donar‘s chest. „I don‘t care,“ he answered, eyes gleaming red. He let go of the knife and turned the handle, stretching Donar further. Donar hissed, biting his lips to stop himself from more screaming._

_With an angry croak, Matthew took off and rocketed towards the tall man, just avoiding him and the knife by diving towards Donar. He sat on the frame of the rack next to Donar‘s head and glared at the aggressor._

_„Wondered when you would turn up, birdie.“_

_Matthew growled and leant forward, spreading his wings and growing. He moved his wings and fixed all of his eyes on the possessed man._

_„Leraikha,“ he growled._

_Leraikha chuckled and extracted herself from her victim, mist flowing out of the cleric‘s mouth and giving way to purple skin, white hair and two white wings._

_The remaining three clerics screamed and fled the room, abandoning their unconscious brother._

_Matthew glanced down at Donar, the wound in his chest still bleeding. The seraph touched the rope that bound Donar‘s wrists with a fingertip and it burnt away, leaving Donar to slowly push himself into a sitting position to free his legs. He hissed in pain, his muscles shaking and not moving in co-ordination with their given orders._

_Directing his attention back to Leraikha, Matthew slid off the rack. He rolled his shoulders and spread his arms, feeling the heat in his wings and halo rise._

_„Do you think you can burn me?“ Leraikha screeched and mirrored Matthew‘s gesture, a purple glow surrounding her._

_Without answering, Matthew brought a pair of wings forward and a fireball shot towards Leraikha. Cursing, she jumped to the side and brought her wings forward, shooting a ball of purple fire towards Matthew._

_The seraph dodged, but forgot about the rack behind him, stumbling and coming to lie on it, his left hand slipping on the roll on its end when he tried to push himself up._

_Laughing madly, Leraikh lunged forward, coming to stand above him. She leant down, cackling against Matthew‘s lips._

_„Farewell, little seraph,“ she purred and brought her tail forward._

_Matthew shoved her off and turned sideways. He screamed when the tip of Leraikha‘s tail buried itself in his wing, searing pain running through it and making the appendix feel numb._

_„Shame,“ Leraikha crooned. „I missed, but that‘s one wing useless for you.“_

_„I‘ve still got enough wings to burn you,“ Matthew growled and pushed himself up again. He rose to his feet, swaying slightly. With one of his wings numb and hanging down, he felt out of balance. Briefly, he wondered how someone with less or no wings at all managed to stand upright._

_„You‘ll have to hurry, though,“ Leraikha sniggered. „The poison will spread, numbing first your wings and then your whole body. I know it‘s not enough to kill a seraph, but once you‘re weak enough, I‘ll insert some more into your system and watch you slowly wither away.“_

_Growling, Matthew took a step forward, feeling an unpleasant tingling in the twin of his numb wing. He cursed, while Leraikha laughed._

_Her laughter stopped suddenly and she looked down at her tail, cursing and kicking at Donar who had taken hold of it. He held on to the tip, taking care it wouldn‘t scratch his skin and yanked, sending her stumbling over his own body._

_Matthew darted forward and grabbed one of her wings. He screamed, concentrating his energy on the feathers in his hands._

__

 

__

 

_When he woke again, Matthew lay in a bed. He tried to spread his wings and noticed that there was something sticky on one of them. He turned his head and sniffed, frowning at the golden stuff on his feathers. Honey._

_He raised an arm and rested it against his forehead, groaning softly._

_„How are you feeling?“_

_Matthew turned his head and saw Donar sitting on the edge of the bed from underneath his arm. He let it fall to the bed again and frowned. „Weak,“ he admitted._

_Donar chuckled. „Well, at least you‘re conscious enough to proceed questions and answer.“ He extended a hand and ran it over the wing that Leraikha had hit. Matthew frowned. He was sure he should be feeling something._

_Donar sighed. „Still no feeling here?“_

_Matthew shook his head. „How long have I been out cold?“_

_„About a week,“ Donar answered. „You‘ve been conscious every now and then, but never enough to speak.“ He frowned. „Wouldn‘t have thought her poison is this severe.“_

_„What happened to Leraikha?“_

_Donar sighed and removed his hand from Matthew‘s wing. „She escaped.“_

_Matthew bit his lip and looked down, clenching his fist. „That fucking bitch, I already had her wing.“_

_Donar chuckled softly, causing Matthew to look up at him, confused. This reaction was not what the seraph would have expected. He was used to resentment and anger, often directed straight at Matthew for letting the demon escape._

_„That you did. I saw it burning brightly when she disappeared, screeching like a banshee.“_

_Slowly, a smirk spread over Matthew‘s face. „She‘ll never grow that one back.“_

_„I know,“ Donar said and moved his hand to stroke over another of Matthew‘s wings._

_Matthew sighed and closed his eyes, concentrating on the touch on his wings. A moan escaped his parted lips. „Donar.“_

_A chuckle was heard and the soft caress stopped. Instead he was grabbed by his shoulders and moved into a sitting position, a drinking horn pressed into his hands._

_„You‘re still a bit too weak for that,“ Donar stated._

_Matthew shrugged and carefully lifted the horn, holding it beneath his nose and enjoying the smell of well-brewed mead with a delightful moan.  
_

 

Gareth had returned in the evening and had kept glancing suspiciously at Matthew.

Matthew had smiled and flicked a mulberry onto his dish before walking out of the door, deciding to give Gareth some time on his own. It would only serve to make the human think about Matthew, wondering what the seraph might be up to and craving his presence.

Chuckling, Matthew pushed the door to Gareth‘s room open and stepped inside, stopping in front of the sleeping man. He waited for a moment, but Gareth didn‘t wake. Smirking, Matthew crawled onto the bed and over Gareth.

The human stirred and turned, blinking and slowly focussing on the seraph above him.

„Matthew, what are you doing?“

„What do you think?“ Matthew purred and dipped his head to nibble on Gareth‘s earlobe.

Gareth sighed and shifted, trying to free the bed sheet. „Get under the blanket,“ he slurred.

Chuckling, Matthew moved and slipped beneath the blanket, purring when he felt the warmth surrounding him. He pressed himself closer to Gareth and shoved his hands beneath Gareth‘s shirt.

Sighing again, Gareth moved his arms around Matthew‘s waist and pulled the seraph closer, burying his face into the crook of Matthew‘s neck.

„G‘night,“ he mumbled.

Matthew frowned, his hands splayed beneath Gareth‘s shirt, fingertips gracing the waistband of Gareth‘s boxer shorts. „What? This is not why I‘m here.“

„I know,“ Gareth mumbled, his lips brushing against Matthew‘s throat. Gareth moved one of his legs to rest on Matthew‘s and pulled him even closer, their bodies flush and almost touching if it wasn‘t for the layer of clothes that covered Gareth. „But I‘m not going to have sex with you.“

Matthew huffed and bucked his hips, rubbing his hardness against Gareth‘s leg. „You think so.“

Gareth hummed and shifted and Matthew smirked, knowing that he _was_ affecting the human. Gareth dragged his nose over Matthew‘s skin. „You smell…“

„What?!“ Matthew snapped, enraged. No one had ever had the audacity to tell him he smelled.

Gareth sniffed and purred, happily, before slurring, „You smell good. So good…“

„You‘re not falling asleep on me!“ Matthew hissed, but it was too late. Gareth‘s snores sounded close to his ear, warm breath skittering in warm huffs over his skin.

Matthew shifted in the embrace and blinked, confused at how this scene had played out.


	10. Indoor Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Small Showdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on we go with this little epic. :D
> 
> This chapter's name is taken from a Cold War Kids song.

Gareth bid goodnight to his landlord and ascended the stairs to his room. Dom had said he wanted to experiment with his newest skull and Matthew had disappeared from the living room a while ago.

Gareth sighed. He knew where he would find the seraph. Matthew had evolved the habit of not just crawling into Gareth‘s bed, but had started awaiting his arrival; lying on the bed, wings spread and looking straight at Gareth. Temptation and seduction laid bare.

Running his hands over his face, Gareth pushed the door to his room open and stepped inside. As expected, Matthew was already lying on his bed. What Gareth didn‘t expect, though, was the absence of a lewd grin and a seductively purred line.

Instead, he found Matthew lying on his back, all of his eyes closed and heels dug into the mattress. His hips were pushed upwards, hands stroking over his hard flesh and abdomen; lips parted and soft moans escaping on gentle gasps.

Gareth hardly noticed the door falling into its frame behind him. „Matthew,“ he croaked and tried to swallow, his throat far too dry. „What the hell do you think you‘re doing?“

Matthew opened his eyes and smirked. „What do you think?“

He moaned louder and rolled his head back, hips pushing higher to give Gareth a better display of his actions.

„I‘m not going to have sex with you,“ Gareth mumbled weakly.

Matthew chuckled lowly. „You will,“ he promised and relaxed against the mattress. He rolled his head to look at Gareth, his blue eyes almost swallowed by the black pupils.

Gareth swallowed again and shook his head. „I… I need to sleep,“ he eventually stuttered.

Matthew sighed and rolled out of the bed and passed Gareth on his way to the door. „You know where to find me when you change your mind.“

„Where are you going?“

„What do you think?“ Matthew chuckled; he extended a hand to run over Gareth‘s chin in passing. „Where I‘ll get some sex.“

 

 

Gareth sighed and watched Dom sitting on the floor. The Viking held a hammer and hit nails into what was tentatively hoped to become a wooden box. Gareth cocked his head. He couldn‘t say Dom handled the hammer as if he wasn‘t used to this tool. He had seen people holding a hammer, trying to hit a nail into something without much expertise, and he couldn‘t say Dom was one of them.

Still, the way the hammer was swung evoked a sense of threat, as if Dom was trying to kill not only the wood, but also the nail. Gareth held out his hand.

„Give me that hammer before you destroy anything.“

Dom looked up and narrowed his eyes. „Excuse me?“ he retorted, ignoring Matthew‘s laughter that came from the hammock. „I‘m perfectly capable of wielding a hammer.“

„Yes,“ Gareth answered. „You‘re a Viking who uses hammers to smash people‘s skulls in and it‘s visible in the way you handle that poor tool, but I‘m the carpenter and I know how to drive nails into wood without killing it dead.“

Dom stared at him for a moment before lifting his hand and swirling the hammer around so the head of it rested against his palm, handle outstretched towards Gareth.

Gareth took the tool and sat down on the floor next to Dom. „Why are you trying to make a box?“ he asked while driving a nail into the wood. He gave the construction a careful shove. It only wobbled slightly, which was a good sign. But he figured that Dom had made a few boxes in his life before to gain enough experience to actually construct something sturdy.

„He needs some place to store his heads in,“ Matthew purred into Gareth‘s ear.

Gareth turned his head to the seraph. He wouldn‘t admit it, but this night without Matthew squeezed against him and teasing him for a while before they fell asleep had felt lonely. He had lain pressed against the wall as if he was sharing the small bed with someone.

Matthew chuckled and brushed his lips over Gareth‘s jaw. „Changed your mind?“

„No,“ Gareth answered and concentrated on his work again. „I‘m not going to have sex with you.“

Matthew pouted against Gareth‘s skin and pushed his hand between Gareth‘s arm and body, running it over Gareth‘s side. „And I stay by my word; you will. And you‘ll curse yourself for not giving in sooner.“

Before Gareth could answer, the hand had been withdrawn and Matthew was lounging in his hammock again. Gareth swallowed and looked back at the nail in his hand. He was just about to let the hammer come down on it when the doorbell rung.

He looked up and frowned. „On a Sunday?“

Dom shrugged and rose to his feet. „Some things are urgent.“

Gareth hummed and leant back to watch Dom leaving the room, and listened to the conversation at the door. He frowned when he heard a voice introducing two police officers.

„I need you and Mr Brennan to escort us to the police station.“

Gareth frowned and turned his head to look at Matthew. The seraph had lifted his head and was glaring at the door, frowning as well.

„Why?“ Dom asked.

„You are asked to help us with the enquiries of the whereabouts of Mr Fages.“

„It‘s Sunday!“

„This is a matter of big urgency,“ the police officer answered. Gareth heard an almost pleading quality in his voice.

„Fine,“ Dom‘s voice was heard, „wait here.“

„Mr Howard…“

„Is this your foot between my door and my doorframe?“ Dom hissed.

Matthew growled and slipped from his hammock, all of his eyes strained towards the door.

„Mr Howard…“ the police officer pleaded.

„Do you have a search warrant or anything to legalise your foot in my house?“ Dom snarled.

„Inspector Adkison wants to see you.“

„And he shall,“ Dom answered, „if you take your foot out of my door so I can close it and get changed.“ Only a moment later, Gareth heard the door fall shut, the sound louder than what he usually heard. He hoped that the police officer had been able to remove his foot fast enough before the door connected with the frame.

Dom walked back into the living room and looked down at Gareth, who was still sitting on the floor, hammer in his hand. „You heard them?“

Gareth nodded and pushed himself into a standing position.

Dom turned towards Matthew. „I guess it‘s best if you stay here for now. I‘ll call you if we need you.“

Matthew crossed his arms and pursed his lips. For a moment, Gareth thought he‘d refuse, but then Matthew shifted from one foot to the other. „How could they track Fages back to us?“

Dom shrugged. „Someone like him would be missed sooner or later by his business partners. I guess they found relatives and the Reverend Mother might have mentioned my name.“

He walked out of the living room, followed by Gareth and Matthew.

„You should have deleted my memories, too,“ Gareth mumbled.

Matthew stopped and turned to Gareth. His eyes were narrowed to slits. „Do you want to snitch?“ he hissed.

Gareth shook his head. „I don‘t want to, but…“ He trailed off and looked down at his feet, shifting uneasily.

„He‘ll be as guilty as us if he doesn‘t tell,“ Dom said. He slipped into his leather jacket and bent down to lace up his boots.

Gareth watched him and then looked up at his own jacket on the coat hook. „I‘m afraid I might let something slip.“

„You‘d lie for us?“ Matthew asked. „Knowing it was an ordinary human that I killed?“

Gareth swallowed and reached for his jacket, nodding without looking at Matthew. Only a few moments later, he felt arms around his torso and he was pulled back against Matthew‘s chest. Hands wandered over his own chest and over his shoulders before they buried themselves in his hair.

Gareth turned his head to look at a smirking seraph who leant in before Gareth could pull away. Soft lips were pressed against his and a tongue was pushed into his mouth. Matthew turned them and moved forward until Gareth’s back was pressed against the wall. He lifted his hands and pressed them against Matthew‘s back, careful not to touch the wings or the marks on the seraph‘s hips.

Matthew‘s lips twitched upwards against Gareth‘s and he pressed himself even closer, hips moving gently. Gareth ran his hands over Matthew‘s back, concentrating on the feel of smooth, soft skin under his fingers. But then Matthew pulled away.

He smirked at Gareth. „Good luck, fledgling. Do your worst.“

Matthew sauntered into the living room, leaving Dom and Gareth to get changed. Gareth swallowed and rubbed his palms over his face, still leaning against the wall.

„He might not be successful into seducing you to sleep with him, but there are more forms of seduction.“ Dom took Gareth‘s jacket from the hook and held it out.

Gareth pushed himself from the wall and took his jacket. „You think he seduced me to lie?“

Dom shrugged. „Perjury won‘t go down well with the big man up in the sky.“

Gareth slipped into his jacket and rubbed his hands over his arms, looking in the direction of the living room.

„I wouldn‘t hold it against you if you didn‘t lie,“ Dom said.

Gareth looked back at Dom and shook his head. „No, it‘s too late for that. I‘m too far into this world. And besides, who‘d believe me?“

„You heard those officers, Adkison is leading the investigations. He knows about Matthew and I guess he‘s still suspicious towards me. He‘d believe you.“

Gareth shook his head. „No, I won‘t back-pedal now.“

„Good,“ Dom said and grinned. „Don‘t act too nervous and you‘ll be fine. Tell them anything that happened, you shopping, me brewing, but spare the detail of Fages and the bank.“ Without waiting for Gareth‘s answering nod, Dom turned and walked to the door. „We‘re ready,“ he announced to the waiting police officers and passed them.

 

 

„Where were you on the 15th of May?“ Adkison asked after exchanging the barest of greetings with Dom.

„What day was that?“ Dom asked. He leant back against his chair and let his eyes wander over the Spartan interior. Walls cover with yellowed wallpaper, bar the one with the large mirror, a table with a tape recorder and a few papers and folders, and three chairs occupied by Dom, detective inspector Adkison and another officer.

„Thursday,“ the officer that had been introduced as detective sergeant Garcia Okaranza answered.

„That was the day after the job for the Reverend Mother, I think. Must have spent the day brewing some mead. Matthew and me had had an argument the evening before, due to a demon that we‘ve been hunting for ages escaping,“ Dom explained. He glanced at Okaranza to see her eyebrows lifting at the mention of demons. „I had been, well, I had treated him unfairly given the circumstances and so I wanted to apologise.“

„By brewing mead?“ Adkison asked.

Dom grinned and nodded. He rested his arms on the table and leant forward. „He just loves this special sack mead I brew.“

„And I guess Matthew will confirm this statement.“

„How could he? He was out somewhere and sulking. Gareth was at home most of the time. Ask him.“

„We have notice that you‘ve been seen at Mr Fages‘ home the day before his disappearance,“ Okaranza pointed out.

Dom turned his head from Adkison to her. „Of course. The Reverend Mother of the monastery in the suburbs had called for me. She asked me to look for Sister Madgalena and exorcise the demon that had possessed her. I had come to Fages in order to ask if she had been at his place.“

„Had she?“

„Turned out she had. He was able to lead us to her hiding place.“

„What happened then?“ Okaranza asked. She was scribbling in her book and Dom had no doubt that she was wondering if she should call someone to examine his sanity.

„We went to an old Fages estate, I exorcised the demon, the demon escaped and Matthew and me argued. I hit him with my axe and he disappeared. I left as well and haven‘t seen Fages since then.“

„With your axe,“ Okaranza repeated. „You hit someone with your axe.“

Dom nodded and grinned widely. „I hit him quite often, although not as hard as on that night. He‘s used to it. Usually tries to strangle me in return.“

„You‘re sick,“ she hissed. „I don‘t know why you‘re not locked away already. I don‘t know in which century you‘re stuck, but there are no demons. And people don‘t go round hitting other people with axes!“

Adkison sighed and put a hand on his officer‘s arm. „Calm down.“

„He‘s talking about _exorcisms_!“

„I know, and I‘ve seen him fight against demons,“ Adkison retorted. „It‘s hard to believe, but just accept it for now.“ He turned his attention back to Dom. „I wouldn‘t have put you down as someone working for the church.“

„I work for anyone if the payment is well enough.“

„I see,“ Adkison sighed. „We‘ll leave you for now.“

Dom dipped his head in acknowledgement and watched the two officers leave the room, saluting when sergeant Okaranza frowned at him. He sighed once the door had clicked shut and let his head fall onto the table.

 

 

„Where were you on Thursday, the 15th of May?“ Adkison asked, staring at the brunet man in front of him.

Gareth frowned and pulled on the sleeve of his jacket. „I don‘t know exactly, it‘s been a few weeks.“

„Apparently, it‘s the day after that madman next door did some exorcism of a nun,“ Okaranza said.

Gareth frowned and cocked his head. „You‘re referring to Sister Magdalena?“

Adkison nodded. „Mr Howard told us he‘d been called by the Reverend Mother. I believe you accompany him during his jobs?“

„Sometimes,“ Gareth answered. „On this particular one, I did accompany him.“

„What can you tell me about Mr Fages and Mr Howard? How did they get along?“

Gareth exhaled and looked at the ceiling. „Well, they‘d never become friends. I don‘t think they liked each other.“ He looked down and at the officers again. „I think Mr Fages was mostly annoyed at being disturbed by us and Dom just couldn‘t stand him. They right parted after the exorcism.“

„Would that be enough to go after someone with an axe?“ Okaranza asked.

„What? No, he doesn‘t go after humans with an axe.“

„He talked about hitting someone called Matthew,“ Okaranza pointed out.

Gareth frowned. How did she get this particular piece of information? And most importantly, what did she know about Matthew? He glanced at Adkison, but the inspector was looking into his own notes. „Yes, but those two are at each other’s throats all the time. You can‘t really draw conclusions from how they behave towards each other.“

Adkison cleared his throat and looked up from his notes. „What happened when Howard had left after the exorcism?“

„Fages and me picked up the unconscious Sister Magdalena and returned her to the monastery. We didn‘t talk much, but I think Fages was affected by what he had seen.“

„And what had he seen?“ Okaranza asked.

Gareth looked at her. „He had seen a demon with one white wing, white hair and purple skin emerge from his sister.“ He contemplated mentioning the seraph, but decided against it. If Okaranza didn‘t know about Matthew yet, she didn‘t need to learn it from him.

She snorted. „Madness, I‘m surrounded by madness.“

Gareth smiled at her. „You just haven‘t seen what I have seen.“

„Whatever,“ Adkison growled. „What happened the following day?“

„Not much,“ Gareth answered. „After the argument, Matthew didn‘t appear until late in the day. Dom spent the afternoon preparing mead. It‘s a very interesting process.“

„You‘ve been seen in a few shops,“ Adkison said, tapping his biro against his notes. He leant further down. „Buying new clothes and purchasing honey.“

„Yeah,“ Gareth nodded, „my old jacket looked quite worn-out and Dom had used most of the honey. So I went shopping. You know what Matthew‘s like, he loves his ladyfingers and honey. If one of those things is missing, you don‘t want to be around him.“

„So you left Mr Howard alone for a while.“

Gareth frowned. „Yeah, from 6 pm to 8 pm, I guess.“

„Why did you leave this late to buy a new jacket?“

„I had watched Dom racking and we noticed that most of the honey was gone once he was finished. So we talked about having to go shopping now and I offered to fetch some honey. Felt like moving a bit and remembered I needed a new jacket. Spur of the moment thing you might say.“

Adkison grunted and rose from his chair. „Fine, that‘s it for now. We‘ll be back.“

Gareth nodded and pulled at his sleeves again while the officers left the room. He hoped he hadn‘t acted suspiciously or appeared nervous. But then, he‘d been questioned by the police, anyone would be nervous, wouldn‘t they?

 

 

„That Matthew guy they keep talking about, shouldn‘t we interrogate him, too?“ Okaranza asked. They stood in a room next to the interrogation rooms and looked through the one-way mirrors at their suspects.

Adkison sighed and walked from the mirror of Brennan‘s room to Howard‘s. That damn exorcist reclined in his chair with his feet on the table and was staring at the ceiling. He had something to do with Fages‘ disappearing, he had to. Adkison had barely more than suspicions and feeble circumstantial evidence, but the instincts he had developed during years of police work told him he was on the right track.

„Honestly, I‘d rather not,“ Adkison admitted. He glanced at the window at the end of the room to see a black raven staring at him. He swallowed and turned to the officer Behrer who had just entered the room. „Have you found anything that connects them to Fages apart from the events of the day before?“

Behrer shook his head. He glanced at the raven on the window sill. „I swear, I‘ve seen this raven lurking about all day.“ He scratched his head and shrugged. „Maybe I‘m imagining things. I‘ll go back and try to find something.“

Adkison nodded and watched the raven in the window again. The bird was staring back at him, black eyes unwavering.

„I think I saw it, too,“ Okaranza said. „Stupid, really. There are hundreds of ravens in this city, why should there only be one lurking around this building. But then, you hardly see ravens with red marks.“

„Its marks remind me too much of someone,“ Adkison retorted. He sighed and rose from his chair to walk to the window and opened it. „Get in, I need to talk to you.“

„Adkison?“

The raven croaked and flew inside and came to sit in front of the room Howard sat in. He croaked.

„No way I‘m letting you to him.“

The raven lowered its head and pushed its beak forward, emitting another, distinctly angrier croak.

„No,“ Adkison answered. He cocked his head and chewed on the inside of his cheek, while the raven was staring at him. Eventually, Adkison reached out to push the door to Brennan‘s room open. The raven croaked again.

„Matthew?“ Brennan asked and left his room, falling to his knees in front of the raven.

„That‘s Matthew?“ Okaranza asked. „That‘s who they‘ve been on about?“

„Afraid so…“ Adkison answered. He observed the man kneeling on the floor, hands hovering just above the raven‘s feathers as if unsure if to touch. Eventually, Matthew spread his wings and jumped on Brennan‘s shoulder. He glared at Adkison who jerked his head towards Howard‘s door. „Who is he?“

„You already know him,“ Gareth answered, „Dominic Howard.“

„There is no Dominic Howard,“ Adkison answered. „I did some research after we encountered that wendigo. There‘s no record of his birth or any other documents that prove Dominic Howard‘s existence.“

Gareth clenched his jaw and glanced sideways at Matthew. „Then why don‘t you ask him?“

„Because I‘m asking you.“

„Then tell me,“ Gareth retorted, „if he was someone completely else, why should he tell the guy he‘s renting a room to since only few months?“

„Because whatever‘s going on, you‘re deeply involved, too,“ Adkison answered.

„I won‘t say anything anymore,“ Gareth said and crossed his arms. He frowned at the new officer that just had come into the room. He was just closing the door and leaning against it, looking at Gareth. Matthew shifted on his shoulder.

„You‘re not making your life easier,“ Adkison said.

Gareth just shrugged. He frowned. The officer at the door was barely suppressing a sneer, lips twitching upwards. He pushed himself from the door.

„Do you think your loyalty is given to the right people?“ Adkison asked, but Gareth hardly heard him. Matthew flapped his wings, hitting them against Gareth‘s head in the process, and hissed.

„Hello, Matthew,“ the officer said and drew his gun, pointing it straight at the raven.

„Constable Behren! What the hell are you doing?“ Adkison shouted. He made to move towards the officer just when the door next to him was pushed open and Dom rushed into the room.

„Of course, threatening your bird always got a reaction from you,“ Behren sniggered.

Dom growled, „Leraikha.“

Behren chuckled and moved, standing behind Gareth within a moment and pressing the gun against Gareth‘s temple. Matthew cawed and made to hit his beak into Behren‘s hand, but was brushed away before.

He landed in front of Dom, who bent down to pick the raven up. Matthew hissed and croaked. He tried to twist free from Dom‘s hold, but his wings were held close to his body, hindering any attempt to free himself.

„What the hell is going on?“ Adkison shouted.

Constable Behren laughed, ignoring his superior and his colleague who had drawn her own weapon and was pointing it straight at him. „What are you going to do, Donar?“ he sneered. „You‘ve got no weapons on you, just your little birdy here and you‘re in the middle of a police station. If you kill someone here, you won‘t get away.“

„Let them go,“ Dom growled.

Behren sniggered „I don‘t think so.“

Gareth swallowed and stared ahead at Matthew, who was cawing loudly and twisting in Dom‘s hands, clawing at the flesh he could reach and biting the fingers. He tried to ignore the pressure of the gun against his temple and the weakness that had spread through his knees.

Matthew croaked again and bit down on Dom‘s finger. Cursing, Dom loosened his grip and Matthew wiggled free and was gone within a moment. Gareth stumbled, the weakness from his legs spreading and numbing his stomach. He froze when Behren hissed into his ear and pressed the gun tighter against Gareth‘s skull.

Dom growled and looked up to glare at Behren. The officer laughed loudly. „Seems your precious seraph has abandoned you.“

„What did you expect him to do?“ Dom snorted. „Go out of his way for someone else?“

Behren cocked his head, his free hand tangling in Gareth‘s hair. „Considering he burnt his arm all those years ago to make sure you were all right when I made that roof collapse on you, I was hoping he would stay, yes. But then, maybe he just grew tired of being your bitch and seized his chance of freedom.“

„I‘ll end you, Leraikha,“ Dom snarled.

Behren laughed again, the sound shrill in Gareth‘s ear. The hand in his hair tightened and his head was yanked back. „Without your seraph and no weapons? What you planning to do, have me laughing to death?“

„Not quite,“ Dom retorted and grinned. „Do you know what‘s your biggest weakness?“

Behren lifted an eyebrow.

„You let your arrogance blind you,“ Matthew‘s voice drawled from behind Behren and Gareth. Dom‘s skeggöx flew past them and was caught with one hand.

„Matthew!“ Gareth exclaimed.

„What?“ Okaranza muttered. She let her gun sink down, staring at Matthew. „What‘s this?“

„You came back?“ Behren hissed.

„Did you really think he‘d just up and leave when you‘re around?“ Dom asked. He swung the skeggöx lightly and rolled his shoulders.

„This is personal,“ Matthew sneered. „Why don‘t you show us your precious remaining wing? I‘d like to see it burn to a stump as well.“

„You fuckers!“ Behren screeched. He walked backwards into the interrogation room, dragging Gareth with him. „What are you going to do? I‘ve got your little friend here and I‘ve got the constable‘s body, you can‘t do anything.“

Growling, Dom yanked his shirt off and dropped it to the floor. He held his skeggöx in front of him and started chanting, slowly walking towards Leraikha and Gareth. The runes on the head of the axe started to shine red.

Leraikha laughed loudly. „Do you think this will help you?“

Gareth felt the gun jerk against his temple when the trigger was pulled. He squeezed his eyes shut and screamed. Something hot ran over the side of his face, burning his skin and some hairs, the smell of burnt hair filling his nostrils.

He was pushed forward and fell to the ground, scrambling away and trying to touch the burning parts of his face. He screamed when his fingers came in contact with something hot and liquid. Someone yanked his hand away and rubbed over his fingers and the side of his face.

„Stupid, stop touching that. You‘re burning your fingertips with the hot metal,“ Matthew hissed. He brushed the melted bullet away from Gareth‘s temple.

„You little fucker!“ Behren screeched and leant his head back. Mist escaped his mouth, swirling above him, while Behren slowly sank to the floor and more mist was emitted. Soon the dark purple figure of Lereikha hovered over Behren‘s body.

„There you are,“ Dom growled, smirking darkly. „Time to lose the other wing.“

„Or better even, your life,“ Matthew chuckled.

Gareth looked up, the side of his face still burning and his eye squeezed shut. His open eye fell on the unconscious officer. He leant forward and grabbed Behren‘s feet, slowly dragging him to the door while Dom, Matthew and Leraikha were staring at each other.

He felt hands on his shoulders and looked up at Adkison who pulled him and Behren further towards the door. Gareth pushed himself into a standing position against the doorframe and blinked. His eye seemed unhurt, but the movement caused by the blinking sent a sharp pain through the skin on his temple.

Gareth observed the occupants of the room circling each other. Leraikha held her tail in front of her, jutting it forward whenever Dom or Matthew took a step closer to her.

„Who‘s this?“ Adkison asked.

Gareth turned his head towards him, still watching the fighters out of the corner of his eyes. „Leraikha. The demon that had possessed Sister Magdalena,“ he answered.

„This can‘t be true,“ sergeant Okaranza muttered. „There are no demons or angels.“

Gareth briefly glanced at her, but decided her statement didnʻt need an answer. If she wouldnʻt trust her own eyes, there was no point in trying to talk her into believing what she saw. He looked back at Matthew and Dom.

The front pair of Matthew's wings was glowing red around the blue eyes while the other wings remained folded, eyes closed. He brought this pair of wings forward, sending fire towards Leraikha. Gareth felt the ball of blueish white more than he saw it, the hair of his fringe sizzling from the heat, his eyes watering.

Leraikha threw herself sideways to escape the fire and folded her remaining wing close to her body. She turned, watching wide-eyed how the fireball burnt through the wallpaper and into the wall before dissipating. She shivered and pressed her wing even closer to her body.

Using this moment of distraction, Dom leapt forward and let the skeggöx come down on her tail. She screeched and swivelled around, black blood pouring from her tail and splattering over the floor and walls. Smoulder sizzled from wherever it landed and acid stench wafted over to Gareth.

He coughed and scratched at his throat, feeling as if his mucosa was burnt away. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Sergeant Okaranza covering her nose and mouth with her hand.

Noises were heard from behind, people banging against the door and asking to be let in. Adkison shouted to them to just leave while Leraikha still screamed. Matthew and Dom tried to advance on her, but each time one of them got close, Leraikha moved her tail, sending a wave of acid blood towards them. The floor was already covered in smouldering, black lines.

“What are you going to do now?” she shouted. “You canʻt come close to me for the poison from my veins will kill you slowly and painfully.”

“Seems we have to kill you from afar,” Dom sneered.

Leraikha jerked her tail into Dom's direction, forcing him to jump back again. She laughed madly. “You'll never…”

Without waiting for her to finish her sentence, Dom threw his axe towards her. Cursing she dodged and stumbled against the wall behind her, hissing when her wing connected with the still hot masonry. She wanted to push herself off the wall and towards Dom, just when a knife buried itself in her forehead.

“Matthew!” Dom shouted, his hand still raised from throwing the knife. “Burn this bitch!”

The seraph grinned, his halo and all of his wings glowing in the same blueish white that the fireball earlier had shown. “My pleasure.”

He brought his wings forward in the gesture that Gareth was quite familiar with now while Dom dashed out of the room, pulling Gareth with him. Scorching heat emanated the interrogation room, the burning pain on Gareth's skin mixing with the crescendo of Leraikha's screams for a brief moment.

Then silence spread, the heat gone. Gareth blinked. His ears rung and he didn't dare to touch the skin on his face for fear he'd find burn scars or even just pure flesh, because his skin had been burnt away.

“You're still looking dashing,” Matthew's voice purred into his ears. “Just a bit of a burn mark where the metal has run down.”

Gareth swallowed and nodded. He looked into the interrogation room to find it empty and black. Only few heaps of ashes were scattered over the floor. He glanced at Dom, who stood in the door, his arms hanging down, the skeggöx held loosely in his hand. The Viking was staring into the room and at the heap of ash where Leraikha had stood.

“My interrogation room,” Adkison groaned. He looked down at Okaranza, who was kneeling and staring into the burnt room, shaking her head slightly. His eyes fell on Behren, who was still unconscious. “My constable...”

“Heʻs fine,” Matthew answered. “He'll live.”

Slow clapping was heard from behind the group. Gareth turned, frowning at the new figure that had appeared. He shivered. Something malign and baneful seemed to go out from the newcomer. He was dressed in a black robe and three black wings were spread behind his back, his black hair slicked back and tied in a tail at his nape.

“So you finally managed to take your revenge,” he sneered. “Took you long enough.”

“Fuck off, Belial,” Dom snapped and took a step towards Belial. Gareth noticed his grip on the skeggöx tightening again.

“Aaawww, youʻre hurting my feelings,” Belial crooned. He lifted his hand to brush away an imaginary tear and sniffed.

Taking another step forwards, Dom pressed the skeggöx against Belial's throat, hissing, “Iʻll hurt even more of you if you donʻt shut up and piss off.”

Belial laughed. He ignored the blade pressed against his skin and looked at Matthew. “Ah, the little Viking, vicious as always, isn't he?”

Matthew's only answer was a low growl, his wings and halo starting to shine in a bright red. Gareth took a step to the side, not wanting to stand between a potential fireball and the aimed target.

“I know when Iʻm not welcome,” Belial huffed and disappeared.

Growling, Dom took a step back and turned to the group who had been watching the exchange. “What did he want this time?”

Matthew shrugged. “Telling us that heʻs back in the picture.”

“We should kill him once and for all...” Dom sighed.

Gareth shifted and glanced at Dom. He wondered if a human would really be able to kill an arch demon. But then, Dom wasn't an ordinary human and there was also a seraph at his side. He might be able to do so.

Matthew cocked his head, seemingly thinking about Dom's statement. “You know what thatʻd cause.”

“I find myself caring less and less…” Dom muttered. He turned to Gareth and reached out to take his chin, pushing Gareth's head sideways to inspect the wound from the bullet. “You okay?”

Gareth nodded hesitantly. He glanced at the burnt room. “Is she really...”

“Dead, yes,” Matthew answered. “Finally.” He looked at Dom.

The Viking nodded and let go of Gareth's chin. He knelt down and fumbled in Behren's pockets, eventually producing the key to locked door.

“Letʻs go home,” he said when he stood again. He walked towards the door, but Adkison grabbed his arm.

“Wait, Iʻve got more questions.”

“Those can wait,” Dom answered and brushed Adkison’s hand off. He unlocked the door and opened it. Without paying attention to the surprised mumbling by the assembled police officers before him, he walked out.

A few of them managed to look inside and caught a glimpse of Matthew. They froze and settled for simply gaping at the seraph, undoubtedly trying to figure out how his wings worked. Gareth glanced at Matthew before hurrying after Dom, deciding the seraph could deal with the situation on his own. It was better to stick to a human than to an angel who would just disappear at worst or turn into an animal at best.

Once Gareth was out of earshot, Matthew slid closer to Adkison, laying his arm around Adkison's waist and pulling the detective inspector close. He smiled and pressed his lips to Adkison's ear.

“You want to know what happened to Fages?” he purred. “This little piece of shit hired someone who shot Donar, straight through the heart I might add, in order to get control over _me_. So I burnt them both. In the middle of that bank at Oval Market. And if you want to find witnesses, you wonʻt. Thereʻs no one who remembers.” Matthew flicked his tongue over Adkison's earlobe and dragged his nose through his short hair before continuing. “And if you think about getting in our way, remember what I just told you, and do remember that this is only a _fraction_ of what Iʻm capable of. You donʻt want to experience my wrath first hand.”

He stepped back and bent forward, wrapping his wings around his body until it was completely covered in black feathers, shrinking all the while. He flew through the door and after Dom and Gareth. The police officers at the door ducked away when he passed, watching him with wide eyes.

“What did he tell you?” Okaranza asked.

Adkison sighed and ran his hand over his face. “We can close the case,” he mumbled.

“What?”

Adkison sighed. “Weʻll never find Fages or anything connecting his death to them.”

“Death?” Okaranza repeated. She pointed towards the door. “He just admitted…”

“Youʻve seen him,” Adkison said, “do you really think we could drag an _angel_ to court, when he could easily burn this whole building down?”

“He canʻt be an angel…” Okaranza whispered.

Adkison snorted. “He is. And thereʻs no way we can hold him down.”

“But what did he say? Why?”

“You could say he had strong personal reasons,” Adkison answered and walked out of the room, telling his subordinates to pick up their work on his way outside.

 

 

Gareth walked next to Dom, glancing sideways every now and then. Matthew was sitting on Dom's shoulder, nipping at his claws or rustling through his feathers every now and then.

Their walk had been silent so far. Once Dom had reached up to scratch a spot on Matthew's back that the raven couldn't reach with his beak, but not once a word had been spoken.

They were just walking into the street where Dom's house was when the Viking stopped dead, frowning at the something in the trees of their neighbour's garden. Matthew croaked.

“Not him as well,” Dom grunted.

Gareth just opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when he saw a white dove rise into the air from the apple tree that Dom had been staring at. “Who is it?” he asked.

“Michael,” Matthew growled.

Gareth looked sideways, surprised to find the seraph standing next to Dom, all of his wings spread and eyes open.

“Matthew, people will see you,” Gareth said.

Dom shook his head. “We're in some kind of in between dimension. There's only us and Michael.”

Gareth nodded, choosing to accept this piece of information for now. Matthew growled lowly.

“Show yourself, asshole.”

The dove landed in front of the small group. It spread its wings and grew until a man dressed in a white robe stood before them. Blond locks were swaying gently in the breeze and three wings in what could only be described as perfect white were folded behind his back.

“How do you feel now, Dominic?” he asked.

“What do you care?” Dom snapped.

Michael sighed and Gareth had the feeling he was truly sad at Dom's harsh answer. “Does your completed revenge make you feel better now? After all those years, does it still mean something to you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, it still means something to me that she killed my friends and burnt my home, even after all those centuries,” Dom hissed. He raised his skeggöx to hold it with two hands before his chest. “I thought thatʻs what you angels preach? Everlasting love?”

Michael shook his head. “We preach forgiveness,” he answered and held his left hand out towards Dom.

“Forgiveness my ass,” Dom snapped and jerked his head at Matthew who had remained silent so far. “Has anyone of you glorious celestial beings ever forgiven him?”

Matthew crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. His wings fluttered and once again, Gareth noticed a bright red shine permeating them.

Michael's face changed. The sad, almost caring expression was gone, now he only showed harsh and unforgiving angles, eyes narrowed and lips a straight, thin line. Gareth took a step backwards. He realised that Michael perfectly fitted the role as God's jurisdiction and executive.

“He committed the worst crime committable and he still continues,” Michael roared. “His absolution can only be granted by Him and only if he pleads for it.”

Gareth shifted closer to Matthew, terrified by the enraged angel. He almost expected Michael to lunge an attack towards them, but within the blink of an eye, he was gone and Matthew was sitting on Dom's shoulder again; a black raven rustling his feather and croaking angrily.

Dom snorted. “Angels, fucking hypocritical vermin.”

 

 

Gareth lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling, the feeling of a gun pressed to his skull still somewhat present and the side of his face still burning beneath the dressing. Dom had coated it in the same mixture that he always had used for his own wounds, ignoring Gareth's objections that he should go to a hospital or a doctor at least.

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand and groaned when he found that it already was far into the next day. Maybe he should call in sick, since he doubted that heʻd fall asleep within the two hours that remained before his alarm went off. Thinking about work, he sighed. He still didn't know how to explain the dressing and wound in his face to his colleagues. He should definitely call in sick, but that'd need a medical report. Which needed a doctor he'd have to explain the source of his wound to.

He sighed and thought back to the evening once again. Dom and Matthew had been calm, barely speaking after they had come back home. Dom had wordlessly pushed some honey and mead into Matthewʻs hands and sat down, sipping on his own bottle of mead. They had disappeared soon after into Domʻs bedroom.

Gareth tried to imagine what they must feel or think, but failed. They had hunted Leraikha for centuries and Gareth couldnʻt even imagine living for such a long time, let alone being driven by the urge for revenge for so long. He wondered just how much of a driving force this revenge had been for Dom, and how much it had affected the bond that kept Viking and seraph tied together.

He heard a soft, slithering sound next to his bed, feathers rustling against each other a familiar sound by now. Gareth turned his head and saw Matthew standing next to him, the red halo gleaming in the sparse, grey light that illuminated the room, his wings hanging relaxed behind his back with the eyes closed.

Gareth shifted further back and lifted his blanket. Without a word, Matthew slid underneath and pushed himself against Gareth, head resting against Garethʻs shoulder.

„How are you?“ Gareth asked and put an arm around Matthew. He felt the seraphʻs lips twitch into a small smile.

„Fine,“ Matthew answered. „Weʻre just fine.“


	11. Inní Mér Syngur Vitleysingur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of unfallen Angels, Curiosity and Foreboding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to [](http://darthtofu.livejournal.com/profile)[**darthtofu**](http://darthtofu.livejournal.com/) for helping me out with the Latin. As always it‘s just a tiny, rather minor, detail that takes the most researching. But hey, things have to be right, don‘t they? Also many thanks to [](http://thekeyholder.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://thekeyholder.livejournal.com/)**thekeyholder** for offering help with the same question. ^.^
> 
> I spent half an hour or so being happily confused at grammar. XD
> 
> This chapter‘s title is taken from a Sigur Rós song and apparently means _Inside me a Lunatic sings_. In this sense, LALALALAAAA

 

 

  
A few weeks had passed since Leraikha had been killed and Matthew and Dom carried on as always. They argued, they exorcised demons and angels alike, they had sex. And almost every night, Matthew would appear in Gareth's bed room, seducing the human.

Gareth sighed and turned towards the sound of rustling feathers. If he was honest, it was becoming harder with each night to resist Matthew. Gareth opened his eyes to look at the seraph, a plethora of blue eyes open and staring at him. Gareth swallowed.

„I want you,“ Matthew purred.

Gareth shook his head. „No, I'm not going to have sex with you.“ It had become something of a mantra, repeated each night and Gareth was clinging to these words.

„Aww, why not?“ Matthew pouted. He knelt down next to Gareth's bed and reached out to brush Gareth's fringe away. „You know it will be fun.“

„And then? What‘ll happen when you‘re done with me? I'm not going to give myself to someone who's incapable of caring for anyone but himself.“

Matthew froze, his eyes narrowing. He wrapped his wings around himself and was gone.

Frowning, Gareth sat up. Had he just witnessed something like emotions in the seraph? He replayed his words. Granted, they had been harsh, but he'd never have thought Matthew to be hurt at those. After all, the seraph himself made sure no one got he idea that he'd care for anyone.

Gareth stared at his door, wondering if he should follow Matthew. He figured that he'd most likely find the seraph in his hammock downstairs, since the hammock seemed to be his favourite sulking place.

He rose from the bed and walked over to the door, stopping just before he pushed the handle down. Maybe this was exactly what Matthew wanted. Feigning hurt and creating a feeling of guilt so Gareth would follow him. But then, the seraph was far too arrogant to feign anything that could be interpreted as _weakness_.

Breathing in deeply, Gareth pushed the handle down and went downstairs. He peeked into the living room. As expected, Matthew lay curled up in his hammock, back turned towards the door.

Gareth walked closer and stopped in front of the hammock. Matthew showed no sign of having noticed Gareth, but knowing the seraph, he was just ignoring Gareth.

„Matthew?“ Gareth asked carefully. „Whatʻs wrong?“

Matthew grunted and shifted, but remained facing the wall. „Nothing,“ he snarled. „What do you care for a sinner like me?“

Gareth shifted uneasily, resting his weight on his right foot while scratching the back of it with his left foot. He gnawed on his lip. „Why did you fall?

„I committed Gula, Individia, Superbia and Luxuria,“ Matthew grunted. „Recently, Ira has been added to the list as well.“

„Thatʻs not why they banned you, though, is it?“ Gareth asked softly and reached out to touch Matthew. He stopped however when the eyes on Matthew's hind wings opened to glare at him. „I'm sorry if I hurt you, Matthew,“ Gareth whispered.

The eyes on Matthew's other wings opened, looking straight at Gareth. „What gives you the impression you've hurt me?“ he asked.

Gareth smiled. „Must have been my mind playing tricks on me.“

Matthew turned his head and snorted. „Presumptuous, aren't you?“

„You know what us humans are like,“ Gareth retorted. „Won't happen again.“

„Good.“

Grinning, Gareth leant forward and briefly pecked Matthew's forehead before turning and leaving the living room without waiting to see Matthew's reaction.

 

_  
Matthew sat on the terrace to the White Garden, his left shoulder leaning against one of the pillars. The garden was, as its name said, made up of all shades of white. Every flower bloomed in white, the grass and trees showing a yellowish-white, not less shining. Even the little butterfly with the frayed wings that sat down on his foot was white._

_Matthew had often stood at the little lake in the centre of the garden and had looked down into the mirror of its surface. It would never cease to amaze him how even his black wings and black hair turned white._

_Matthew wiggled his toe and the butterfly set off. He watched it sit down on a white flower and sighed._

_„Matthew, my beautiful,“ a voice was heard from behind._

_Matthew turned around and smiled at the angel behind him, her brunette locks curling over her shoulders and three brown wings folded behind her back. She sat down next to him and smoothed the crinkles in her robe._

_„Amora,“ Matthew greeted her. He shifted closer to her and rested his head on her shoulder. He closed his eyes, smiling when she tugged at his own robes, her left wing resting against his wings._

_„I heard you had a disagreement with Michael?“ Amora spoke after a while._

_Matthew sighed and opened his eyes. He turned his head to look at her without having to lift it. „Heʻs so judgemental. How can he be an angel and be so unforgiving? Samyaza did nothing wrong when teaching those humans.“_

_„Itʻs what his purpose is,“ Amora answered. She smiled, running her hand through Matthewʻs hair. „Heʻs the angel to bring His judgement.“_

_„But he hasnʻt done anything bad. And now theyʻre even changing the collective consciousness to twist the memory of him into an image of sin and lust.“ He shifted into a sitting position again to look at his friend. „I donʻt understand.“_

_„Of course you wouldn't,“ Amora answered and kissed Matthewʻs forehead. „He made you to be the purest and most beautiful of us all. You're not meant to hold grudges.“_

_„I'll miss Samyaza,“ Matthew said. „He was a good friend.“ He fell silent for a moment before continuing. „Michael said I'm doubting His judgement even if I continue calling Samyaza a friend.“_

_„It's his purpose,“ Amora repeated. She ran her hand through Matthew's hair, scratching his scalp lightly. „He will judge anyone who shows the merest hint of a doubt.“ She kissed Matthew's forehead again. „You should avoid him for a while.“  
_

 

Matthew blinked and looked at the ceiling. He lifted his hand and covered his eyes, frowning when he felt moisture against his palms.

„Bloody dreams,“ he growled.

He strained his ears, trying to assess who was in the house. He heard someone walking past the living room and straight into the kitchen. Calm steps, unhurried and sure. Donar.

Matthew sighed and rolled out of the hammock and followed Donar into the kitchen. The Viking was already wearing his shoes and jacket and was just plucking off the piece of paper that had been stuck to the fridge. He turned when he heard Matthew entering the room.

„You don't look too well,“ he stated in place of a greeting.

Matthew grunted and ran a hand through his hair. The gesture reminded him of his dream, so he let the hand fall down. „Dreamt of Amora,“ he mumbled.

Donar lifted one eyebrow at him. „Amora,“ he repeated and sighed. „It's been a while.“

Matthew nodded and sat down at the table, staring at the table top. He heard Donar rummage in the cupboards and a few lady fingers were put down before him. Matthew looked up at Donar.

„Seems our dear lodger is getting beneath your skin, little seraph,“ Donar said.

Matthew grunted and broke one of the lady fingers into halves before nibbling on it. „He's just playing hard to get.“

„Sure,“ Donar retorted. He playfully ruffled through Matthew's hair. The seraph growled and batted Donar's hand away.

„I'm going to see Lady Darklis to get a few supplies. Do you want to come along?“

Matthew stretched and glanced at the clock. He had almost slept through the whole afternoon. He shook his head. „No, our lodger will be back soon.“

Donar chuckled and walked to the kitchen door. „And you do fancy him,“ Matthew heard just before the door fell shut. Matthew growled and contemplated going after Donar, but decided against. He finished his lady fingers and looked out of the kitchen window, watching people pass by.

He sighed. Maybe he should have gone with Donar. Being on his own wasn't a good idea at this moment, his thoughts drawn to events that he would have liked to remain forgotten.

 

_  
Matthew sat in front of the White Garden once again, staring gloomily at the butterflies that circled the flowers. He lifted a hand and pointed his index finger at one of the butterflies. A small fireball shot forwards from the finger and hit the butterfly in flight. He watched it burn mid-air and the ashes float towards the ground. Even the flame had been white; no matter how often he sat fire to something in the White Garden, it would always remain without colour._

_He still strained his ears, waiting to hear her voice, scolding him for laying hand on one of His creations. Nothing came forth. Matthew growled and shifted his wings. His eyes fell on the milky white eye on his lowest premiers. He still wasn't used to the blind spot in his vision caused by the blinded eye. It wasn't much that was obscured, but it was just enough to be noticeable and an annoying taint in his sight._

_Maybe He would heal the eye if Matthew asked._

_He shook his head. There was no way Matthew would ever be looking at Him again. For the last months or so he had been avoiding the Great Hall, skipping every mass and devotions. Instead he had started to lure other angels away, singing to them and making them forget about where they were supposed to be. He watched them being hunted down by Michael, some of them even getting their wings clipped for a while._

_He snorted and looked up into the white sky of the garden. So this was what His love was all about. Love Him without any reservations and you would be loved. Dedicate him all your caring and time and you would be allowed to live. Fail to show him your undivided love and you would be punished._

_„Seraph Matthew.”_

_Matthew opened the eyes in his wings to look at Michael without turning to face him. So it was finally his time for punishment. Matthew smirked. Should that wretched archangel try clipping his wings, Matthew wouldn't go down without a fight._

_„What do you want, Michael?”_

_„I am here to bid you to cease this sinful behaviour or there will be dire consequences.”_

_„Sinful…” Matthew drawled. He rose and turned to Michael. Sidling closer to the archangel, he lifted his hand to open the clasp of his tunic, allowing the cloth to fall to the floor._

_Michael shuddered and took a step backwards, shaking his head. „What are you doing?”_

_Matthew smirked and caught up with Michael. He pressed himself against the other angel, one of his hands resting on the small of Michael's back and keeping him close, while the other hand took hold of Michael's chin to keep his head in place._

_„Forgive me, for I am a sinner,” Matthew crooned into Michael's ear and nibbled on the ear lobe. He gyrated his hips against Michael's, chuckling darkly. „And I will drag everyone down I touch, everyone that hears my song.”_

_„Seraph Matthew!” Michael snapped and pushed Matthew away._

_Matthew laughed and watched Michael rubbing his hand over his ear._

_„You‘re doubting His judgement,” Michael growled. „You're rebelling because you don't agree with his judgement on those who don't love him.”_

_Matthew growled lowly and spread his wings, feeling them heating. „How can He preach love and forgiveness when he doesn‘t even accept it in his angels?”_

_Michael took a step back, staring at Matthew's wings and frowning. „One is supposed to love Him and no other!”_

_„She did!” Matthew roared. „She loved Him, so why was she not allowed to even care for someone else? How dare He be this self-centred? How dare_ you _even mention her?”_

_„I will report this to Him,” Michael snapped._

_„I expect nothing else from you,” Matthew hissed. „Little, ass-crawling lickspittle that you are.”_

_Michael glared at him for a moment, before turning and walking towards the corridor that would eventually lead to the Great Hall. „And shroud your naked flesh again, it's disgusting.”  
_

 

„Matthew?”

Matthew looked up from his bottle of mead and the lady fingers in front of him. Gareth stood in the kitchen door and frowned at him. Matthew grunted something inaudible and took a swig out of the bottle. He watched Gareth moving through the room with the eyes in his wings. The human sat down and watched Matthew drinking.

Matthew waited for Gareth to ask something that he would just shrug off, but instead, the human reached out towards the bottle, his hand stopping a few inches away from it. „May I?”

Grinning, Matthew held out the bottle and watched Gareth take it, making sure their fingers brushed against each other. Gareth took a gulp from the bottle and closed his eyes, swallowing. „Not bad,” he said.

„We told you before, Donar brews the best mead. And this isn't even the sack mead. Wait until you‘ve tried _that_.”

„I guess he had a lot of time to practise,” Gareth retorted and handed the bottle back.

Matthew nodded and placed the bottle on the table. He leant forward and brushed his fingers over the side of Gareth's face. The hot metal that had run from Leraikha's gun had left a long scar, starting from the temple and stretching over his cheek until it reached the jaw.

„Itʻs going stay a scar,” Matthew said. He traced the scar, smirking when he felt Gareth leaning towards his fingers just the tiniest bit.

„Nevermind,” Gareth answered. „Rather a scar than a hole in my head.”

Matthew chuckled and leant back again. „Weʻre gonna make a man out of you yet.”

„Oi!” Gareth exclaimed and pouted. „Whatʻs that supposed to mean?”

Matthew laughed and picked up one of the lady fingers in front of him.

„Matthew?” Gareth asked after a while.

Matthew looked up and swallowed the biscuit in his mouth, humming for Gareth to continue.

„You...” Gareth started. He sighed. „You havenʻt answered my question from this morning.”

Matthew lifted an eyebrow. He had to admit he was surprised, and somewhat impressed, that Gareth would muster the courage to ask again this shortly after so obviously being denied an answer.

„Maybe I just donʻt want to answer it,” Matthew retorted.

Gareth nodded and looked down at the table. „Sorry,” he muttered. He rose and busied himself in the kitchen, preparing his dinner. Matthew watched him in silence for a while. Eventually, he sighed.

„You want to know what He truly is like?”

Gareth stopped slicing salami and turned to look at Matthew. He nodded. „Have you ever seen God?”

„He‘s burning too bright for anyone‘s eyes,” Matthew answered. „You‘d be glad if you‘re just blinded upon lying eyes on him.” He snorted and gulped down the last remnants of his mead. „Even the seraphim have never seen him; and we're supposed to be turned to him nonstop, praising his glory.”

„Is that what happened to your eye?”

Matthew folded his wings closer to his back, hiding all eyes in them. „How loving is a father who forbids you to look at His glory, who burns at least your eyes, if you dare to take a peek?”

„Maybe He forbids you because He doesn‘t want you to come to any harm.”

Matthew shook his head. He laughed. Once he himself had thought that way. „He‘s almighty,” Matthew answered. „He could subdue this. He could enable you to see Him. But He only loves Himself and His power.” Matthew pushed himself into a standing position and walked over to Gareth, taking the knife out of the human's hand and putting it on the kitchen counter before placing his hands left and right of Gareth on the counter.

„I refused to love Him,” Matthew spoke against Gareth's lips. „Thatʻs the worst and the only unforgivable crime, to not love God; to deny the sole reason why angels exist; to praise His self-loving ass.”

Matthew felt Gareth's hands on his skin, resting just about Donar's marks. Gareth had always taken care not to touch the marks, nor had he ever tried touching the wings. Matthew hadn't figured out yet if it was because of fear of Matthew's reaction or because of respecting the intimacy those parts entailed.

„But why…?”

Matthew shook his head and pressed a finger against Gareth's lips. „More won't be revealed.”

Gareth nodded. „I never even wondered if God had emotions,” he admitted.

Matthew laughed and pecked Gareth's lips before disentangling himself. He sat down on the table, watching Gareth picking up his dinner preparations again. „Of course he has, why shouldn't he?”

Gareth shrugged and put the salami slices on his bread before walking back to the table and sitting down. „It's strange imagining an entity that has created the universe and everything within as someone being ruled by the same emotions as humans.”

„He hasn't created the universe,” Matthew said. „He's just one of a whole pantheon of different gods who managed to be the most influential and powerful in the long run.”

„How was the universe created?”

„Who knows?” Matthew shrugged. „The gods didn't. They just came into it and found it to be a huge playground. You know how there are different creation myths?”

Gareth nodded.

„They're all true and simultaneously none of them are.” Matthew shook his head. „I prefer not to think of it, because it's all so muddled and merged into each other. It makes your head hurt.”

„But how can something be true and not true at the same time? How can so different legends about the very same thing be true?”

„It's got to do with believe and faith,” Matthew shrugged. „I'm made to know the truth. Ask me any question, and I could give you the right answer. Can you imagine what this mess of being simultaneously true and false is doing to my head?”

Gareth hummed and took a bite from his bread, chewing for a while. He swallowed. „So each god humanity has ever believed in exists.”

Matthew nodded.

„Do they know of each other?”

„I guess they do. They just like to ignore each other most of the time.”

„But what happens if no one believes in them any longer? Take Egyptian gods for example. No one believes in them nowadays. Have they just ceased to be?”

Matthew hummed and stared at the ceiling. He had to admit this conversation was enjoyable. It had been a long time since someone had questioned him about how different pantheons worked together. Actually, no one except for Donar had tried to hold a conversation about things that weren‘t directly connected to an exorcism.

„No, they just remain in the era they belong to,” Matthew answered. He waved his hand while collecting the answer. „Time holds no meaning to Gods. It's just no factor. So even if they were just believed in for one day, they'd stay in that particular day.”

„That'd get boring, wouldn't it?”

Matthew laughed. „It would, if time meant anything to them. They could just exist in one day and it'd be like the eternity.”

Gareth sighed. „I see why that gives you headaches.”

They sat in silence until Gareth had finished his meal and started rinsing his cutlery. „Where's Dom, by the way?”

Matthew looked up, chewing on his last lady finger. „He's at Lady Darklis', needs a few supplies for charms.”

„You mentioned her before,” Gareth stated.

„She's a Gipsy and medium,” Matthew answered. „Guess you'll meet her sooner or later.”

Gareth nodded and dried the knife before putting it into the drawer. He just turned to Matthew, intend to ask more about that woman when the door bell rung. He and Matthew frowned at the door, before Gareth walked out of the kitchen, Matthew's foot steps padding after him, stopping at the kitchen door however.

Gareth opened the door a fraction. „Detective Sergeant?”

Okaranza nodded and used Gareth's moment of surprise to push into the house. She stopped when she noticed Matthew glaring at her from the kitchen door, his wings spread and all eyes trained on her. She swallowed audibly and turned to face Gareth.

„I'm not sure my landlord approves of you entering this house without invitation,” Gareth pointed out.

Okaranza shrugged. „He better does. There are still questions unanswered regarding Fages' disappearance.”

„Heʻs sending someone?” Matthew snarled. „Havenʻt I made myself clear enough?” He flapped his wings and took a step towards Okaranza.

„Are you threatening a police officer?”

„Are you thinking you can take it on with _me_?” Matthew hissed and another step towards her. Gareth watched her, marvelling at her willpower to remain in her spot. He'd be running by now. Matthew took another step towards her. „Detective Sergeant Garcia Albiol Okaranza, age 31, born in Lanark. You omit your father‘s name because he left you and your mother and you don‘t want to be connected to him in any way.”

Okaranza narrowed her eyes. „How do you know?”

Taking the final steps to reach her, Matthew stopped right in front of her, face inches away from hers. He raised his right hand and she jerked away from it. „Iʻm a seraph, I know who Iʻm talking to.” Matthew crooned. „You lost your virginity to Liam Muir at the age of 16.” He brought his hand in contact with her face, running his fingers gently over her cheeks. „You thought heʻs the one big love of your life, the one to spend your little life with. But then he left you for Mariane Burns, breaking your ickle little heart.” Matthew leant closer to her, his lips brushing against her ear. „You never told anyone, but youʻre still comparing each partner to him which is the reason why your marriage didn‘t last longer than two years.”

He leant back, changing the grip of his hand to fist in her hair and pull her head back. „Do you still think you should investigate, even against Adkison's direct orders?” he hissed.

„A man was murdered,” she winced.

„Matthew,” Gareth objected. He took a small step towards them, raising his hand, but stopped dead when Matthew glared at him.

The seraph turned back to the officer before him. „I killed him because he tried to enslave me. Because he tried to murder Donar; if that old Viking wasn't immortal, you'd be investigating Donar's death now.”

„That still doesn't give you the right to elide the law!”

„Oh, you little human,” Matthew snorted, „latching on to your little laws and rules. Don't you understand? They mean nothing to us. They change every few years, even the most basic rules of a society change constantly. We've seen states thriving on war, we've seen societies based on slavery, people who consider other peoples as unworthy to walk the Earth. And now you want to tell me I should feel bound to those fickle little things you insignificant, little humans cling to? Just the blink of an eye ago death penalty was still state-of-the-art.”

Matthew let go of Okaranza's hair and she took a few steps backwards. „Do you have no morals?”

„What for? They're even more volatile than your laws.”

„What do you say about this?” Okaranza snapped at Gareth.

He shrugged and shifted, running his right hand over his left arm. „If I said I couldn't see his point, I'd be lying. I might not agree with him about killing humans, but I understand that you just stop caring if you see so many changes in your life.”

„Still you're subject to the laws of this time and this state.”

Matthew rolled his eyes and turned to walk to the living room. „Do what you have to do, but be careful you don't burn yourself.”

Gareth sighed and ran his hands over his face before turning to Okaranza again. „Just leave it,” he said. „Matthew made his point clear, and he won't stop because you wave something abstract in front of him. They lived through almost two thousand years. Take a look at the history of those years and try to imagine what you'd be like.”

„You should be careful,” she said. „You're not immortal, are you? Think who you want to give your loyalty to.”

Gareth shrugged and reached for the door handle behind him. „It's too late for that now.” He turned and opened it, yelping when he found someone else standing in front of the door, hand raised to ring.

The tall man in the long, white coat frowned down at him. „Who‘re you?”

Gareth pointed at the name tag next to the bell. „Brennan, who are you?”

The stranger shook his head. „So you‘re the latest renter,” he sighed. „Where‘s Dominic?”

„None of your business, Fleck,” Matthew's voice came from behind Gareth.

„Matthew,” the stranger growled and pushed into the house, roughly shoving Gareth aside and ignoring Okaranza. „What are you planning?”

Matthew frowned. „What? What the hell are you talking about, misfit?”

„Don't play dumb!” Fleck shouted. „You know perfectly well what I'm talking about! How do you want to do it?”

Matthew shook his head, still frowning. He spread his wings, staring at Fleck with the eyes in them. „What affliction of the mind has befallen you*?”

„Get out of my mind, you filthy demon!”

Gareth grabbed Okaranza's arm and pulled her further into the house, stopping only when they had reached the door to the living room.

„How did you call me, putrid lowlife?” Matthew roared. His halo had started to glow brighter and Gareth noticed the eyes in his wings bleeding into red.

The stranger pulled a rosary from his pocket and held it in front of Matthew, letting each marble slip through his fingers. „Eicio te immundum spiritum oboedi imperii mei et…” Fleck chanted under his breath.

Matthew screamed, the marks on his hips glowing purple. He raised the pair of his wings that were the most in front and curled them around himself, eyes closed. The other wings glowed red, eyes still wide open.

Gareth shifted Okaranza and himself further into the living room.

„Is he going to burn down his own house?” she gasped.

„Wouldn't be the first time from what I've heard,” Gareth answered.

„Obsequi!” Fleck shouted and let the last marble of his rosary slip from his fingers. A white circle spread from his hands and floated towards Matthew, spreading until it was circling the seraph. Fleck shot his right hand forward, the rosary resting on his open palm. He closed his fist around it when the circle was around Matthew, and the light closed in, tying Matthew's wings to his body.

„Matthew!” Gareth shouted and made to rush towards the angel, but Okaranza grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

„Are you mad?” she hissed. „Do you want to get caught up in _this_? Or do you have some super tricks up your sleeve as well?”

Gareth glanced at her and shook his head. „But…” He looked back at Matthew. Two of his eyes where trained on him, one of them the blind, milky white eye that Matthew usually hid, the other, neighbouring eye the only one that had remained blue.

Gareth nodded and looked back at Fleck, who was laughing at Matthew.

„Is this all you've got to offer, oh amazing seraph?” Fleck mocked Matthew. „You’ve grown weak, didn't you? Or were you just weak to start with?”

Chuckling was heard, coming from beneath the wings Matthew hid behind. The two eyes that had been directed at Gareth closed and the healthy eye re-appeared as red as the other eyes on Matthew's wings. „Oh, Fleck, Fleck, Fleck, you're far too full of yourself to be any danger to even an ant.”

Matthew's wings fluttered and he spread them in a quick motion, the circle of light breaking and pieces of it hitting the walls and sizzling against the wallpaper.

„What are you doing to my seraph?” Dom had just opened the door, a tote bag strapped over his shoulder. „And what the hell are you lot doing to my corridor? Matthew, I've told you before not to burn my goddamn house!”

„I didn't do anything,” Matthew snarled. „Fleck here thought he'd _exorcise_ me.” He turned and pushed past Gareth and Okaranza to curl up in his hammock, the eyes in his hind wings staring at the humans.

Dom sighed and jerked his head towards the kitchen. He walked past Fleck and into the room, followed by the exorcist, Okaranza and Gareth. Dom put the bag onto the table and glowered at Fleck.

„What do you want? I think I've made pretty clear I don't want any exorcists in this house when I'm not here.”

„Do you really think you can trust him?” Fleck asked and jerked his head towards the direction of the living room.

Dom frowned. „What are you hinting at?”

„Rumour has it that a way has been found to break a soul bond.”

„Has it?” Dom retorted, coldly.

„Yes,” Fleck answered. „You should be careful about your seraph.”

Dom lifted an eyebrow, still refusing to show any other reaction. „Rumour, you say. I wonder who spread that?”

„Is that important?” Fleck hissed. „What do you think would happen if the bond was to be broken?”

„I‘d catch up on my age,” Dom paused and chuckled. „Wonder how long it‘d take until I‘d look my age.”

„But you‘re…” Gareth interrupted and took a step further into the room. „You‘d die within a short time.”

Fleck turned his head to look at Gareth, frowning. Gareth figured that maybe Fleck didn't expect Gareth to actually be involved with anything concerning Dom's activities as an exorcist.

Dom shrugged. „Everyone has to sooner or later.”

„Don‘t tell me you‘re still trusting him,” Fleck said. He put his hands on the table top, leaning forward. „You know he‘d never do anything for you if he can avoid it. He‘d never try to save you. I bet he‘s the one who found a way to break the bond.”

Gareth frowned, remembering burning bank robbers and stories about collapsing long houses.

„Did you just come to share the latest gossip with me?” Dom asked and peered into the bag, retrieving a few bundles of herbs that Gareth didn't recognise.

„Never trust angels who lost their ability to heal.”

Dom frowned and looked up from his bag. „You know perfectly well that this says nothing about the trustworthiness of an angel,” he hissed.

„Doesn‘t it?” Fleck snorted, „There has to be a reason why some of them are disconnected to God.”

„I forgot,” Dom sighed and directed his attention back to towards the contents of his bag, busying himself with putting them into their respective shelves. „You‘re one of those fools believing that angels are pure and good.”

„I just came to warn you,” Fleck shrugged. „Don't come to me and beg for help when you find your precious seraph has turned on you.” He turned to walk out of the kitchen, waving over his shoulder. „No need to see me out, I know the way.”

They remained silent until the door clicked shut and Matthew appeared in the kitchen. „Do you believe him?”

Dom stopped moving his shopping goods into their places and turned to Matthew. He shrugged. „Who knows? There might be a way.”

Matthew crossed his arms. „Do you think it‘s me?” he asked. „Do _you_ think I‘m out to break the soul bond?”

„Do you want the honest answer?” Dom retorted.

The stared at each other until Matthew wrapped his wings around himself and shrunk before taking off in a flutter of black wings.

Gareth watched him disappear, most likely flying to the living room to sulk in his hammock again. „What is the honest answer?” he asked.

„He knows it,” Dom answered. „No need to tell someone else.”

Gareth nodded and sat down at the table.

Dom turned to Okaranza, only acknowledging her presence now. He sighed. „What are you doing here?”

„I…” she shrugged and gesticulated from Dom to the direction of the living room. She shrugged again.

„She just wanted to leave,” Gareth answered. „Didn't you?”

„Actually, no. I've still got questions and I want answers at least,” she announced and sat down on the chair next to Gareth.

Dom sighed and folded the now empty bag. He put it into the drawer where he kept his bags before sitting down opposite Gareth and Okaranza. „Fine. Do you want to rent a room?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Paraphrased from Robo from Chrono Trigger. It‘s just too good to let pass. XD
> 
> I know that Gipsy is not the political correct term. But tell that to a seraph who simply doesn‘t care. And if he cared, he‘d chose the not p.c. version.
> 
> And I tried to give _some_ kind of explanation about throwing different religions together. But yeah… You know Matthew saying he gets headache from thinking about it? Yeah, me, too. It‘s not easy getting different religions and pantheons together.


	12. Smile at the Way Everybody Accepts the Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Peek into the Past and an Old Acquaintance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I‘m actually not sure if I got anything right in here. I tried doing some research, but you don‘t find too much on this particular scenario of history without really, really deep research.
> 
> Also, I think the next chapter will herald the grand final. Which, don‘t fret, will take some more chapters. We‘re not really close to the end. :P
> 
> This chapter‘s title is stolen from the IAMX song Unified Field.

Donar crept through the woods, batting away the branches with his axe. He swivelled around when he sensed someone behind him, the axe stopping dead in front of a young woman's throat and a Carbine M1 pressed into his stomach.

„Haldis,” Donar snarled at woman. „How often do I have to tell you to not creep up on to me?”

„I have to do my job, don't I?” she hissed and let the rifle sink down. „Can't have someone sneaking in who better stayed out of the camp, can I?”

Donar sighed and let his own weapon sink down, attaching it to his belt again.

„I'll never know why you choose to use such an out-dated weapon. You'll be shot before you can do any damage to your enemy.”

„Trust me, I'm more effective with an axe than with any fire arm. And before I use a rifle, that suffers from stoppage whenever temperatures sink, I'll try and chop off someone's limbs. In the end, you'll end up having to hit your opponent in face to face combat with the butt which does a lot less damage than an axe.” He looked up, waiting for a familiar croak and the flutter of black feathers. Eventually, Matthew appeared, coming to land on Donar's outstretched arm. He croaked before jumping onto Donar's shoulder.

„There'll be more food deliveries coming in, about to reach them in three days,” Donar said. „I'd say we strike just before they reach the German camp.”

Haldis frowned at Donar and cast a sideway glance at Matthew. „How do you know?”

„A little bird told me,” Donar answered and winked at her.

„One day, I'll figure out how you really do that,” she sighed. „You know, some people are growing suspicious. They think you're a double crosser. You can only get the information you're passing on by teaming up with the Krauts.”

„Doesn't surprise me,” Donar answered, ignoring Matthew's croaking. „Can't say I blame them. Humans are vile and untrustworthy in general.”

„Now that attitude will really serve to make them trust you,” Haldis commented.

Donar laughed. „I'm past caring what other people think of me, to be honest.” He ducked beneath one of the branches blocking his way and was met with a low hanging camouflage net. He pushed it aside to enter the camp.

It was a small camp, two rows of tents arranged somewhat circularly around a large tent. All of the tents were pitched next to a tree to offer them some disguise and hiding from passing fighter and reconnaissance aircrafts. The few camouflage nets they had been able to get hold of were used to hide the fireplace and the large tent.

„Donar! Haldis!” a voice came from next to them. They to a man that walked towards them, dressed in an old fur jacket and a scarf covering his mouth and nose, a rifle strapped to his back.

„What's going going on, Isak?” Haldis asked.

Isak squinted at Matthew on Dominic's shoulder before looking over his own shoulder where a group of people in winter coats and with weapons was slowly dissipating.

„The Americans have sent someone to help us during a few operations,” Isak explained while they approached the group.

„Why should they risk someone of their own for some Norwegian partisans?” Donar asked.

„They understand that we need to work together in order to win this war,” Haldis said. „Helping us out is only for their own good.”

„They could help us out by providing information,” Donar retorted and shrugged. „This way we can work effectively and they don't risk anyone. What did Karl say about it?”

„I welcomed any help we could get.”

Donar rolled his eyes and turned right towards the new voice. „Good afternoon, Karl,” he greeted the tall man in the green anorak with a machine gun strapped to his back and a machete attached to his belt.

Karl acknowledged the greeting with a short nod and pointed to the slightly smaller man next to him. He didn't wear a weapon, Donar noticed.

„Samuel Grigori will support us during the next two operations in order to collect and exchange information in order to figure out the best strategy against the Nazis.”

Donar felt Matthew's claws on his shoulder tighten and frowned at the newcomer. Samuel was staring straight at them, smiling. „You must be Donar,” he said and held out his right hand. „You've got a very exceptional raven there.”

„Thank you, I guess,” Donar answered and shook the offered hand. It was a firm grip. Donar looked up at the American and tried to read the expression, but it was carefully guarded. „Welcome to our rebel camp, Mr Grigori.”

„Please, call me Sam,” the American retorted, and showed a smile. It looked genuine, Donar figured, but only if you hadn't seen lifetimes of forced smiles. They never showed in the eyes and Sam's eyes were the blankest Donar had ever seen.

Matthew croaked and Sam's eyes flicked to the raven and Donar could have sworn that he saw a glint of emotion for the briefest of moments. Maybe it had been sadness, maybe it had been longing; as far as Donar's experience went, they weren't far apart at all.

„As you wish, Sam,” Donar said. He let go of the hand and turned to walk back into the forest. There was something alarming about Samuel Grigori and Donar needed to talk to Matthew about the newcomer. The claws that still dug into Donar's shoulder only confirmed Donar's suspicions. „Who's calling himself after the watcher class of angels?” he muttered.

„Where are you going, Donar?” Karl shouted after him.

„Hunting,” Donar shouted back without turning. „We need food, don't we?” He continued walking until he was sure no one had followed him and stopped next to an old fir tree and leant against the trunk.

„You're acting strange,” he muttered into Matthew's direction. The raven croaked and finally let go of Donar's shoulder, flying off into the treetop. Donar sighed and shook his head while watching the raven fly. „One could think you've seen a ghost.”

Something cracked only a few metres behind Donar. Plugging the axe from his belt, he turned towards the source of the noise.

„No need to decapitate me,” Sam said and raised his hands. He smiled the same perfectly trained smile Donar had witnessed earlier. „I don't mean harm.”

Donar let the hand with the axe sink down, but didn't reattach the weapon to the belt yet. He narrowed his eyes. „I don't trust you, Grigori.”

Sam shrugged and took a step closer, but stopped about a metre away from Donar, leaving both of them enough space to react to any sudden advances. „Can't blame you,” he admitted. He was silent for a moment. When Donar didn't react, he continued, „I must admit, I'm surprised at meeting you here and under your birth name, though.”

Donar flexed his fingers around the handle of the axe. „Who are you?”

„Samyaza,” Matthew's voice came from behind. Donar turned and frowned at the seraph. He looked back at the man opposite him. Was this the angel Matthew had told him about once? An old friend who had been expelled from heaven for teaching humans and who had been twisted into something akin to a demon in human consciousness. One of the Watchers, Donar remembered.

At least the name made sense now. It was certainly stupid to call oneself after the class you once had occupied. But then, everyone had something they clung on to while passing the aeons; something to keep them from losing themselves.

„Matthew, dear old friend,” Samyaza greeted him.

Donar looked at the seraph, who moved his left foot forward without putting it to the ground. Matthew appeared undecided and Donar realised that he simply didn't know how to behave. He knew that Matthew had been created as a very different character, so what he was witnessing now was a clash of who Matthew used to be and who he was now.

The Matthew Donar knew would never rush to hug a friend, wouldn't even admit to having friends. But Samyaza was someone Matthew knew when he still had been without any sin; someone from a time where Matthew would indeed rush to hug in greeting.

„What are you doing here?” Matthew eventually asked, remaining at Donar's side.

„You know what it was that Azrael taught them under my command?” Samyaza retorted.

Matthew nodded. „How to forge weapons and wage war.”

Samyaza nodded. „I've been following wars ever since I was banned from Heaven.”

„Why? You've got the whole world to see, why only go to wars?”

„I think it's a way of atoning for my sin. Out of everything we've taught the humans, warfare is the one thing I do regret. I guess somehow I still hope that I might be allowed back one day.”

„Only your god,” Donar snorted and turned to walk further into the forest. „Only He would punish you for something that humans did since they were made. Peoples have been waging war before your God came to be and their gods looked down upon them and bestowed honour on them.”

„Do you still hold onto your heathen gods that offer you a place in heaven if you die in war?”

„Do you really want me to believe in one unforgiving, arbitrary god?” Donar retorted without turning back. He raised a hand to wave at the angels. „I'll be hunting. Have a good time catching up.”

 

 

„He's changed.”

Donar opened his eyes and rolled his head to the side. Matthew was sitting next to him, the only light in the tent provided by Matthew's halo that cast a soft, red light over the angel's face.

„He could say the same about you,” Donar said. He grunted and sat up, wrapping the blanket around him to remain warm.

„Guess so...” Matthew fell silent and brought one of his wings in front of him, studying his feathers.

„Didn't you say that Samyaza's wings had been taken?” Donar asked while reaching out to traces Matthew's feathers. Even in this place with hardly any possibilities of taking care, the feathers were still soft to the touch.

„Yes, they've been removed. Sometimes, angels can survive without their wings, but they're nothing more than immortal humans. It's part of the punishment.”

„So if Samyaza survived, maybe Amora…”

Matthew shook his head. „She ceased to exist. There's no other option. He was thorough.”

Donar nodded. They sat next to each other in silence for a while. „What do you think about Samyaza?” Donar asked eventually. „Can we trust him?”

„He seems trustworthy,” Matthew answered.

„But…?”

Matthew shrugged and flexed his wings as well as possible within the constraints of the tent. „I'm not sure. It's been centuries for him among the humans. Centuries of war and on his own.” He turned his head to look at Donar. „No one can survive that without some kind of damage.”

Donar nodded. Matthew was right. They've spent lifetimes together, more at war than anything else, they had seen everyone around them die and if Donar were honest to himself, he wouldn't have been able to stand even the loss of his village without Matthew by his side. In the end, it had always been them against the world, no matter how much they argued and fought.

„He seemed quite normal to me, all things considered,” Donar said.

„That's what worries me.”

 

 

„Aaah, Donar, so nice of you to join us,” Karl greeted Donar when he entered the largest tent that they used for briefings.

Donar looked around to find everyone had already arrived. He checked his watch. „Didn't we want to start at 7:30?”

„We rescheduled. We started 6:30 sharp,” Karl retorted.

Donar shrugged and sat down next to Haldis, Matthew sitting on his shoulder and croaking lowly. „Must have missed the memo,” Donar answered. He reached up to stroke over Matthew's head to acknowledge the complaints about underhanded backstabbers. „What have I missed so far?” He glanced at Samyaza, who was looking straight at them.

„We…” Haldis started, glancing at Karl for a moment. Karl narrowed his eyes for only a second. „We established the position of the deliveries and agreed to launch an attack.”

„Well, it doesn't seem I've missed a lot…” Donar stated. He squinted at Karl.

„What's that supposed to mean?” Karl snapped.

Sighing, Donar stood again. „I do understand when I'm not welcome. I won't participate in this mission if it makes you feel better.”

„No, it doesn't make me feel any better,” Karl answered and stood as well. „Yes, you will stay behind, but you'll be guarded. Did you think I'd fall for your stories forever? There's only one way that you can know so much about the enemy troops. And it certainly isn't through talking to birds.”

„If you say so,” Donar sighed. He reached up with two hands, catching Matthew just before he could take off. The raven croaked viciously and twisted in Donar's hands, gashing his claws into any piece of flesh he could reach.

„Yes, you better keep your bird in check. I won't have it flying around and warning the Krauts, if you get what I mean.”

„You better be careful,” Donar growled. „I won't have you, or anyone, harm my bird in any way.”

„We don't even know if Donar's a traitor,” Haldis objected. „So far, his information were always correct and we had no losses. If he was a traitor, wouldn't we be caught and dead by now?”

„He's just trying to win our trust,” the woman next to Karl, Lisbeth, pointed out.

„How long is he with you now?” Samyaza asked.

Lisbeth frowned at him and shrugged. „Half a year, maybe.”

„You'd be caught and dead by now if he was a traitor,” Samyaza said.

„Mr Grigori,” Lisbeth said, „I appreciate that you're willing to risk your life for our country, but I doubt you're here for long enough to be able to judge in this matter.”

„And do you really think the Germans would wait this long before seizing you? Months in which you damage them? Destroy valuable resources? You'd be killed within a week if you had a traitor among you.”

Lisbeth glowered at Samyaza, but remained silent. Instead, Karl nodded at Isak, who stood next to Donar. „The point still stands, I don't trust him.”

„I get it,” Donar sighed. „I'll be in my tent. With my raven.” He glanced at Isak. „No need to escort me, I know the way.”

„I will escort you nevertheless,” Isak answered and flexed his hands around his rifle before following Donar outside.

„As you wish,” Donar sighed. He glanced down at Matthew. The raven had stopped struggling, but judging by the way he remained limp in Donar's hands, he was simply sulking at being ignored and treated like an ordinary bird.

They reached Donar's tent in silence and Donar stopped in front of it, turning to Isak. „You don't want to crawl into it as well, do you?”

„Since there's only one exit, that won't be needed,” Isak answered.

Donar squinted at him for a moment, trying to figure out if Isak had been serious with his statement or if he was mocking Donar. Eventually, Donar gave up and shrugged, he pushed his hands into the tent and let go Matthew before ducking into the tent as well.

„How can you allow them to treat us like this?” Matthew hissed once Donar was inside.

Donar glared at him. „Don't talk while someone's in front of the tent, idiot,” he hissed.

„I don't care,” Matthew snarled. „You know I won't be treated like this. That moron uttered threats against me. If someone so much as thinks about laying fingers on me, I will burn them.”

„You won't burn anyone in this camp, Matthew.”

„Donar?” a voice that Donar recognised as Samyaza's came from outside the tent.

Sighing, Donar motioned for Matthew to crawl into the corner of the tent, where he couldn't be seen from the tent door, before turning to let Samyaza in. Donar glanced outside, finding Isak standing a few metres away. At least there was a fair chance he hadn't heard what had been spoken in the tent.

Samyaza crawled into the tent and sat down on the blankets on the floor, nodding his greeting at Matthew. „I'm sorry, I tried to convince them that you aren't a traitor,” he said. „I think the majority believes you, but alas, Lisbeth and Karl are dead set on proving your betrayal.”

Donar nodded and sat down opposite Samyaza. „Thanks for trying. I guess they'll realise once this mission is over.”

„They better,” Matthew growled. He was still sitting in his corner, wings folded behind his back, but eyes trained on the other two men in the tent.

„You're not going to burn them,” Donar growled.

„Do you really still have all your powers?” Samyaza asked. He crawled forwards and reached out to run his fingers over Matthew's feather. Matthew pulled the wing closest to Samyaza back, though.

„Almost,” he answered. „As you know, banned angels lose their ability to heal others.”

Samyaza sighed and looked up from the eyes of the wing in front of him to Matthew's face. „He must still love you.”

Matthew snorted and ruffled his wings, the motions somewhat abrupt. Donar frowned. The seraph was furious. He was annoyed by this morning's events and now someone was talking about God's love to him. Even on Matthew's best days, that was a bad idea. Right now, the mention of God might lead to him blowing the whole camp up.

„Have you really abandoned Him?” Samyaza asked.

Obviously, he wasn't aware of the erratic nature that Matthew had grown into. Donar felt for his axe to knock out Matthew if needed, but the seraph just glared at Samyaza before hissing, „Yes.”

He wrapped his wings around himself, shrinking and merging into a raven. Croaking at the two men, he pushed the canvas of the door away and took off.

„Matthew!” Donar shouted and pushed himself onto his knees to follow him.

„Donar, wait!” Samyaza called out and put a hand on Donar's arm.

Donar stopped and turned back to the fallen angel, allowing the door of the tent to fall down again. „What is it? I've got to catch my bird before someone gets daft ideas. He's not in the mood to take so much as an offensive look.”

„I just need to know, did you influence him to become this…” Samyaza gesticulated, „this _bitter_?”

Donar shook his head. „No, I only ever knew him this angry.”

Samyaza nodded and looked down at his feet. „I see.” He was silent for a while and Donar wondered if that was all the angel had to say. Maybe there really wasn't much to say anymore between fallen angels in general. They all had their own stories and their own crosses to bear. „He used to be the purest of all,” Samyaza said eventually.

„Of course,” Donar snorted. „That's why he had to fall this deep. Something pure can never be just a bit besmirched. He was always doomed to become something despicable by your God's rotten morality.”

Samyaza's lips twitched and Donar expected to be subjected to a lecture about His love, but instead Samyaza shook his head and sighed. „You know what happened to him?”

„We've been together for about a millennium now, secrets don't remain secret after such a long time.” Donar sighed and turned to leave his tent. He straightened again outside and looked up into the sky. There were a few ravens flying in the cold sky, none of them Matthew. The seraph would never mingle with other animals; partly because of his pride, but mainly because every member of the animal kingdom fled his presence.

Donar wandered through the small camp, wondering if he should call out for Matthew, when he heard a familiar voice hissing expletives at someone. Cursing, Donar rushed into the direction he had heard Matthew's voice from.

He pushed through the partisans grouped around Isak, who was standing in front of Matthew, The seraph's wings were spread behind him, all of them glowing in a faint red.

„What's going on here?” Donar roared.

Matthew lifted his hand, arm outstretched, and pointed his middle finger at Isak. He then turned his hand and opened the fist to reveal a small stone. Growling, Matthew brought the lowest pair of his wings forward. Flames ran over his outstretched arm and pooled around the stone. It melted and dripped to the ground, sizzling when it hit the frozen ground.

Growling, Donar turned to the man who was now staring at the cooling glass at Matthew's feet. „What have I told you about my raven?” he hissed and drew his fist back before letting it collide with Isak's chin. Isak stumbled backwards and fell, staring up at Donar while holding his chin.

„No one harms my bird,” Donar growled. He heard Matthew snigger behind him and turned, swinging his arm around. „And what the fuck are you doing?” he shouted while letting his fist connect with Matthew's temple.

„He threw a rock at me!” Matthew hissed and brought the middle pair of his wings forward, sending a fireball towards Donar.

Donar lifted his arms to block the fire, hissing at the pain that seared through them when his sleeves were burnt away. „It was a bloody tiny stone!” he screamed and threw himself forward. He collided with Matthew and sent him stumbling backwards, coming to land on Matthew. „And since when do you blow your cover so easily?”

”No one throws a rock at _me_ and goes unpunished!” Matthew snapped and raised his hands to strangle Donar, flames spreading from his hind pair of wings and sizzling in a circle around them. Donar felt him angle his leg, but was too slow to avoid being pushed over.

„What are you doing?” Samyaza's voice was heard over the screams of the partisans. Neither Matthew nor Donar paid any attention, though.

„I know what's the problem with you,” Donar drawled and pushed his left hand between Matthew's legs. „How long has it been now?”

Matthew growled and flapped his wings, all eyes in them staring at Donar. The viking laughed and moved his hand over Matthew's length, his other hand stroking over one of the marks on Matthew's hips. Donar watched Matthew's eyes flutter, a telltale sign of arousal, and used the chance to push Matthew off him. He grabbed the seraph's wings and forced Matthew to stay down while quickly moving behind him.

Donar changed his hands' hold to seize Matthew's hair and grab his hip, leaning forward to growl into Matthew's ear. „You're horny, aren't you? It's been too long since you've been fucked properly.”

Matthew flapped his wings and hit them against Donar, who just laughed.

„Fuck off!” Matthew snarled.

„No,” Donar chuckled, „fuck _you_.”

Matthew twisted in Donar's hold, but only found the hands on him tightening and Donar pressing him further down. Eventually, he stilled and turned his head, laughing. „I'm horny? Are you sure it's only me who needs to get laid?”

”Matthew! What has become of you?”

Donar and Matthew looked up to find Samyaza standing next to them and staring down at them. Shrugging, Donar let go of Matthew and sat back on his haunches. He glanced around. The partisans were standing around the circle of glass that surrounded Matthew, Samyaza and him. They were staring at them, some of them whispering to each other. Sighing, Donar stood.

„A sinner,” Matthew answered and rose to his feet as well. He folded his wings behind his back, eyes hidden.

„But don't you want to atone for your sins at least a bit?” Samyaza asked. He held out his hands towards Matthew, who just looked at them without showing any emotion. „Don't you regret anything at all that made you fall?”

Donar noticed Matthew's jaw moving forward in what he had learned to be a veiled display of disagreement. „I regret ever trusting Him,” Matthew stated.

Samyaza took a step forward and took hold of Matthew's shoulders, shaking his old friend. „How can you say that?” he asked, moving his hands from Matthew's shoulders to hold his head.

Matthew emitted a growl and roughly pushed Samyaza's hands off his head before shoving against Samyaza's chest. „I trusted Him!” he snarled and followed Samyaza, reaching for his jacket to pull him closer again. „I loved Him! I did everything that He expected of me!” he spat into Samyaza's face. „I _was_ everything he wanted me to be. Was it enough to save her?”

„Matthew…” Samyaza whispered. He laid his hands on Matthew's, but the seraph shook his hands off again. He resumed pushing Samyaza away from him.

„ _Did._ ” A shove. „ _It._ ” Another shove. „ _Save._ ” A violent shove that pushed Samyaza to the ground. „ _Her?_ ”

Samyaza sat on the ground and stared up at Matthew. „I…” He shook his head. „I don't know…”

„How could you?” Matthew hissed. He bent down and pulled Samyaza up again, shaking him while screaming at him. „You weren't there anymore! Atoning for your sins despite knowing better. He's not forgiving. He's not loving. You know that.” Matthew let go of Samyaza who took a few steps backwards. „He cares for no one but himself!”

„He cares for those who love him,” Samyaza shouted back. „That's all He asks of you, to love Him. She…”

Before he could finish the last sentence, Matthew was upon Samyaza again. The seraph closed his hands around Samyaza's throat, all of his wings spread and his eyes fixed on his old friend. „You weren't there!” Matthew yelled. „Don't you dare assume anything about her. A mother; that's what she was to me. She cared like a mother would for a son, nothing more, nothing less!”

He let go of Samyaza and stumbled backwards, the eyes in his wings vanishing again. He raised his hands to his face, pressing them against his eyes, and wrapped his wings around himself. Donar blinked. Was Matthew trying to hide? His outburst alone was highly unusual, but Donar didn't consider it as unexpected. He had always known that one day, Matthew would break down under the rage and grief he clung on to. Meeting an old, close friend was as good as any reason. Matthew trying to hide, shrinking into himself was unsettling, though. Donar wondered if he should interfere or leave the confrontation between Matthew and Samyaza.

But then, Matthew whispered something and Donar stopped breathing to even hear the words before they died away in the cold air.

„He just couldn't stand that I'd turn to her for solace after losing my closest friend.”

„I'm sorry, Matthew,” Samyaza whispered. He stepped closer to Matthew and reached out to put one hand behind Matthew's head to pull their foreheads together. „I'm so sorry. I never guessed what you had to endure.” He pulled his head back to press his lips against Matthew's forehead. „Forgive me, my friend, forgive me for what I put you through.”

Matthew shivered and took a step back before crouching down with his wings merging into his skin once again. He croaked and flew towards the forest. Samyaza stood and watched him fly off before looking down at his shoes, shoulders hanging down. He ran his hands through his hair and looked up at Donar.

Donar shrugged. „He doesn't do forgiveness,” he answered the unvoiced question. „Absence of abuse is the best you'll get.”

Samyaza nodded and walked over to him. „How well do you know him?”

„Better than any angel or demon ever will,” Donar answered. He turned and spotted Karl in the group surrounding them. Sighing, Donar walked towards him. There would be answers demanded again, no matter if Donar felt like giving any.

„Your arms,” Karl whispered.

Donar looked down to find the burnt skin healed already, only his jacket hanging over the pale skin in tatters. He marvelled at the random details the human brain picked up on sometimes. Karl had just witnessed a raven turning into an angel with a tendency to burn everything around him, and the thing he commented on first was the healed skin on Donar's arms.

Donar shrugged. ”I heal fast.”

Karl nodded and looked back to the burnt circle Matthew had stood in just a few moments ago. „What was that? What _is_ your raven?”

„He's a fallen angel, bound to me in order to atone for his sins.”

„He didn't appear to be atoning,” Karl stated.

„Matthew hasn't got any desire to join the heavenly ranks again.” Donar answered. Before Karl could voice another question, Donar added, „He doesn't have any desire to join the demon ranks either. He just doesn't want anything to do with anything Christian anymore.”

„Why?” Lisbeth asked.

Donar turned his head to look at her. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyes narrowed, deepening the crinkles in the corners of her eyes. He shrugged.

„I just told you all you need to know,” Donar said. He knew she wouldn't be satisfied with this answer, but that was all she was going to get from him. „I won't go around gossiping about my seraph.”

„You haven't become any more trustworthy,” she stated and crossed her arms.

„Quite frankly, I don't care,” Donar said. „Everyone has something they’d rather keep private. I don't demand you to do a soul striptease in front of me, so I expect you to respect our privacy as well.” He turned and found Samyaza standing behind him.

„Where has he gone to?”

Donar shrugged. „I never asked where he goes to sulk. He'll be back eventually.”

„He better be not warning the Krauts,” Lisbeth hissed.

„Don't you get it?” Donar hissed at her. „Haven't you seem him? If we wanted you dead, we'd have burnt this camp upon finding you. We don't need an army to wreck havoc.”

„Then why haven’t you burnt the Germans already?”

„After a millennium of wars, turmoils and riots and civilisation connecting more and exchanging a lot more information, you start appreciating a profile kept low. Winning a fucking huge war single-handedly would get me into every goddamn history book for the next millenia. I'd never have a calm day again.” He pushed past Lisbeth and Karl. „If you need me, I'm in my tent.”

„Isak, follow him,” Lisbeth's voice followed Donar and sure enough he heard footsteps following him to the tent. Sighing once again, Donar crawled into the tent without looking back at Isak. He sat down on the pillow and reached for his knives and the grindstone. He lifted one of the knives to his eyes, perusing the runes on the blade. He would have to redo them after sharpening the knife.

Donar crawled to the little chest he kept in the corner of the tent, hidden beneath sacks and bags. He pulled it towards the pillow he had sat down on and pulled the chain around his neck from beneath the layers of clothes, using the key on it to open the chest.

He rifled through the few ingredients he kept in there until he found the wooden box that held phials of angel and demon blood. He opened it and sighed when he found most of the phials halfway emptied. Demons and angels usually avoided mingling in wars of a certain seize, which made it hard to obtain any ingredients.

He reached out for his knife and the grindstone to sharpen it. After a while, he lifted the knife and pressed his thumb against the blade. It cut easily through the skin without much pain. Satisfied, Donar sucked on his thumb to clean it of blood and then swiped the knife clean on his intact sleeve.

He took a chisel and a little hammer from the chest and carefully placed the chisel against the faint traces of runes. He slowly renewed the runes and then reached for a phial labelled 'Akephalos' and dripped some of the blood onto the runes. He twisted the knife until all the runes were filled with the blood and turned the knife over to repeat the motion.

The blood glimmered red for a moment before it disappeared and only the runes were left. Satisfied, Donar put the knife back into its sheath and reached for another knife to repeat the sharpening process with some drops of angel blood.

He had just picked up the knife when he heard screams from the outside. Putting away the knife again, he listened to the noise and reached for his axe. He heard gunshots over the screams, shouts in a different language mingling with the noises.

German, Donar recognised.

He attached the axe to his belt and grabbed the freshly sharpened knife before cowering behind the tent door, waiting to see if someone would burst in. When nothing happened apart from the noise dying down, he carefully shoved the door open a fraction to peek out.

He could catch a glimpse of the place where Matthew and he had been fighting not too long ago. The partisans were rounded up there by soldiers in German uniforms.

Donar dared to push the canvas open a bit more to check if there were soldiers standing close by. Judging from his restricted view, the majority, if not all, were surrounding the partisans. „Arrogant bastards,” Donar growled under his breath and crept out of his tent. „Don't even know the basics of raiding a camp.”

He managed to sneak closer to the group in the middle of the camp without being seen. Cowering behind a tent, he scanned the faces. Lisbeth and Isak were missing and Donar assumed they were among the corpses that were scattered over the camp. He made out Haldis and Karl in the crowd, though. Also missing was Samyaza. Donar wondered if the angel had been killed or if he just was hiding to wait for the right opportunity to strike.

While Donar was counting the soldiers and wondering how he could possibly disarm a group as big as that, one of them stepped out from the circle of soldiers. Donar didn't quite recognise the uniform, but figured he was the superior officer.

„So, who’s the Viking?” he addressed the group.

Donar frowned. The German could only be referring to him. But how did he know that they were hiding between the partisans? Donar shook his head. Wondering about what they wanted was pretty pointless. He had heard rumours about Hitler wanting to use the supernatural pass between exorcists and Matthew's destructive powers had been well known for centuries now.

„No one?” the German asked. He took a step back and signalled with his arms for the soldiers next to him to step forward. „Well, let’s just shoot everyone and see who comes back to life.”

„Alright, it’s me,” Karl's voice was heard just as Donar got up from his crouched position, arm raised to throw the axe.

„Really?” the German asked. He cocked his head. „I thought you’d be carrying an axe… Where’s your seraph?”

„Had an argument,” Karl answered without missing a beat. „He flew away.”

The German nodded. „I see.” He turned to the soldier left to him. „Shoot him.”

A few screams came from the partisan group after those words. Donar saw Karl going pale and the soldier that had been given the order stepped forwards. He raised his machine gun and aimed just as Donar threw the knife.

„Stop it,” he hissed and left his hiding place, axe resting loosely in his hand.

The German looked down at the dead soldier next to him, blood running from his neck where Donar's knife had hit home. He nodded and looked up at Donar.

„That's more what I've expected,” he said. „You've got excellent aim.”

„I had a lot of time to hone my skills,” Donar answered, walking closer to them.

„And there's even the famous axe.”

„I'm glad I don't disappoint.”

The German chuckled. „You certainly don't. Now we only need that seraph.” He signalled at his soldiers.

 

 

Donar blinked and tried to move, groaning when he felt his muscles and sinews littered with metal. „Fuck,” he ground out and tried to sit up to assess the damage. A hand against his chest stopped him.

„Stay down, you fool,” Matthew hissed.

„What happened?” Donar ground out and sat up despite Matthew's hand against his chest. He saw the German soldiers standing around them, shifting uneasily. „Why haven't you burnt them down already?”

Laughter came from behind him. Donar made to turn around, but the bullets in shifted against his muscles and sinews. Growling, Matthew shoved him back onto his back. „I told you to stay down.”

Donar growled, but remained lying while Matthew resumed plucking the bullets from his body.

Boots appeared next to him and Donar turned his head to look up at the German general. „He can't burn anything,” the German explained. He held up a slim, stake-like, beige item and pointed to the ground. „He's powerless.”

Donar lifted his head, ignoring Matthew's low growl. There were lines drawn in the sand around them. „A trapping circle?”

„Not just any trapping circle,” the general chuckled. „It's drawn with your blood and the carved bone of a mammoth that had been used for rituals since ancient times.” He looked up and sneered at Matthew who spread his wings within the constraints of the circle and bared his teeth at the German.

Donar growled and sat up again, ignoring Matthew's complaints. He was tempted to berate the seraph for stepping right into a trap that must have been obvious to him, but Donar decided against. His eyes fell on the pile of bloody bullets that Matthew had already removed. Donar wasn't about to complain about that.

„What now?” Donar asked after a while. „Do you want to hold us like this forever?”

„No, not forever,” the general answered. „Just for as long as it takes our dear friend to retrieve the powers held within your bodies.”

Donar frowned and was about to retort something, when he heard another voice from behind him. „Fascinating. You really are immortal, no matter what's done to you.”

Donar didn't turn around, but watched Matthew's face. The seraph froze, eyes wide and staring at Samyaza who was undoubtedly standing behind them.

Matthew shook his head. „No…” he whispered.

Laughter came and Donar leant his head back to see the other angel standing above him, grinning widely at Matthew. „Your face,” he giggled, „you need to see your face. Proud Matthew, frozen like a deer in headlights.”

„Why?” Matthew asked. He stood and took a few steps towards Samyaza, hissing when his toes hit one of the lines. „Why?” he shouted.

„You said it yourself,” Samyaza answered and walked around the circle, the eyes in Matthew's wings the only moving part of his body. „He's not forgiving,” Samyaza continued. „I realised that myself a long time ago. Drives you insane once you realise it. So I thought, if He's never going to forgive me, I might just make Him hate me enough to never forget me.”

He stopped in front of Matthew again, once he had finished circling them, holding out his arms to direct everyone's attention to the trapped seraph. „And look at you. You've committed the worst crime committable, you don't even show any sign of penitence. And yet you're allowed your wings, you still hold all your powers!” He took a step closer to them, carefully just refraining from touching the lines in the sand. „How is that fair?”

Matthew just narrowed his eyes and glared at his former friend, refusing to answer.

„How is that fair?” Samyaza yelled. „Answer me, seraph!”

„What about the others?” Donar asked when Matthew remained unmoving. He looked around the camp, finding it void of any partisans.

Samyaza chuckled, not taking his eyes off Matthew. „Well? Seraph, can't you answer any question you're asked?”

„Dead,” he answered. „All of them.”

„And why didn't you help them?”

„Because I was trapped, you bloody traitor,” Matthew hissed.

„That's right,” the German general said. „You're a trapped little angel. Which means you're going to do as you're told.”

Matthew looked down at his feet. „You forgot one thing,” he growled and spread his wings, stretching them over the blood lines. They glowed red wherever they crossed the area of a line.

„Oh?” the German retorted. „Which would that be?”

„You forgot who I am,” Matthew roared. „I am the purest of all. I burn the brightest.” A shiver ran through his wings and flames spread over them and down Matthew's legs, towards his toes and through the lines, growing until Donar and Matthew were surrounded by a wall of fire.

Matthew flapped his wings and the fire spread through the camp. Agonised screams drowned out the crackling of burning canvas and wood. Donar pressed a hand over his nose. He could stand the screams. He had been the cause of similar screams often enough. He would never be able to get used to the stench of burning flesh, though. It was hellish and could follow you into your dreams.

Eventually, the fire burnt down and the screams subsided. Donar looked up and let his eyes wander over the camp. Matthew had been thorough. There weren't any remainders of tents, weapons or supplies left, nor were burnt bodies found. The whole camp consisted of a blank patch of molten sand that was cooling down.

Two bodies were left however.

Matthew walked over to an almost burnt man who lay in a foetal curl on the hot sand. Matthew kicked him, rolling the whimpering man onto his back. „Did you honestly think I'd be trapped forever?” Matthew asked. „That I wouldn't figure out a way to use the spells and restraints to break free?”

He knelt down and ran his finger down the German's nose until he had his finger pressed against the lips. „There's only one to bind me, and it's not you.”

He smiled and spread his wings behind him, all of his eyes trained on the general and glowing red. „Open up,” he sang and pressed his finger harder against the lips.

The general shook his head. „No, please,” he whimpered.

Matthew's smile turned into a sneer and he used the parted lips to push his finger into the general's mouth. „A bit of advice,” he crooned, „not that you need it anymore, but if you don't want someone to put something into your mouth, keep it shut under any circumstances.”

He turned his head to watch a flame coming down his shoulder and running over his arm and hand until it reached the finger that was pressed into the general's mouth. Matthew removed his finger and stood. He put one foot on the German's chest and kept him pressed to the ground.

The German convulsed, twisting on ground and emitting gurgling sounds. Flames licked from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears, crawling over his whole body until it stilled and Matthew's foot pressed down into a pile of ash, sending flakes flying into the cold air.

He raised his head and spread his wings, the eyes training on Samyaza before Matthew even turned to face him. He walked over to the angel that he had once called a friend.

„I wanted a war to end all wars,” Samyaza whimpered. He was in a better condition than the general had been in. Only his feet and legs had been burnt, keeping him from running away. „A war so gruesome no one ever wants to wage war again. Maybe that's why He sent me down. This is my atonement.”

He tried to crawl forward, but hissed when his legs where dragged over the harsh ground. He gave up and stared at the advancing seraph. „You've got to understand, Matthew.”

Matthew remained silent and stopped before Samyaza. He folded his wings.

„Say something, Matthew, please,” Samyaza pleaded. „Don't be silent like this.”

Matthew just shook his head, remaining silent. His wings were starting to glow red, fire running down his legs.

„Are you going to burn an old friend?” Samyaza screeched and tried to shift further back.

Without answering or showing any reaction at all, Matthew looked down, watching flames moving from his legs and feet to Samyaza.

Hissing, Donar managed to stand and stagger over to Matthew's side, the bullets in his flesh grating against the skin that had just grown over them, but at least his legs weren't littered anymore. He stopped behind Matthew, watching Samyaza burn.

„You never really changed,” the fallen angel ground out. „You're much stronger than me, my friend.”

Matthew turned, blinking surprised to find Donar standing behind him. „Why are you moving? There's still bullets in you,” he snapped, „fool.”

Donar shrugged and let himself fall to the ground again. He looked at the ashen form of Samyaza. „You killed him.”

„He betrayed us,” Matthew answered. „He wanted to use us.”

Donar looked up at him and shook his head. „You showed mercy. This was what he wished for, and you knew it. If you had wanted to him to suffer, you'd have spared him.”

„Whatever,” Matthew huffed and sat down next to Donar.

They sat in silence and Donar turned his head to look over the burnt camp again. „Do you think we'll win this war?” he asked eventually.  
 _  
„Eventually, yes,” Matthew answered and pulled the blanket away to straddle Dom. „Good morning, Donar.”_

_Dom glanced at the clock on the night stand. Five AM. „Go and pester our lodger,“ he grunted.  
_


	13. Again the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angels and Demons get involved once again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no post. I really need to get back into writing regularly. This chapter‘s name‘s once again taken from Jason Webley‘s _Against the Night_ album. I think I‘ve told you about that song that‘s on that album in three different versions when I use _Against the Night_ as a title.

It had been a few days since Okaranza and Fleck had appeared on their doorstep. Luckily, Fleck hadn't made another appearance, but Okaranza dropped by regularly now. She had passed on Dom's invitation to move in, though, much to Gareth's relief. Matthew would have been unbearable.

The seraph was unhappy with her regular visits as it was. He had settled for referring to her as the Spanish Inquisition, which Gareth thought was a bit exaggerated.

Unsurprisingly, she had insisted on joining them on one of the exorcisms. That was why they now stood as a group of four opposite one unarmed man in a stranger's living room.

„I definitely didn't expect you to bring the police as well.“

„Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition,“ Matthew retorted. He rolled his shoulders and let his wings flutter, staring expectantly at the door for a moment.

Gareth blinked at Matthew. That had been unexpected. He'd never thought Matthew would watch British comedy, let alone quote from it.*

„What do you want, Michael?“ Dom snarled. The man looked at him, wearing an expression of surprise.

„How did you know it's me?“ he asked.

„The state of your host,“ Dom answered. He pointed at Michael's hand. „I can see burn marks covering the back of your hands. And judging by Mrs Hadlok's description you can only have been in him for two days now.“

Michael lifted his hands to his eyes and sighed wistfully. „You're right. Those human bodies burn too easily.“ He let the hands fall to his sides again. „Do give Mrs Hadlok my deepest and honest condolences.“

Dom snorted. „Don't give me this whole caring and regret bullshit. If you honestly regret burning this man from the insides, you wouldn't have possessed him to start with.“

„Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the greater good,“ Michael said. „I thought an old warrior like you would know that.“

„What does he mean with burning this man and sacrifices?“ Okaranza whispered to Gareth. „He's looking fine, isn’t he?“

„When an angel or demon possesses someone, they become pure energy. The more powerful the angel, the more damage is done to the host just by the act of possession,“ Gareth answered. „I don't know what happens to someone who's been subjected to an archangel, though.“

„After two days, the host usually is gone,“ Matthew answered. „The soul simply burns away and then the body starts to disintegrate. As soon as you see the first burn marks, the host is gone.“

Okaranza swallowed and looked at Michael, her eyes falling to the burn marks on his hands. „You're an angel,“ she whispered. „And yet you killed him?”

„I'm sorry, but it couldn't be helped,“ Michael said. „I assure you the cleansing fire did his rotten soul good, though. His sins will be forgiven and forgotten.“

„What do you want this time?“ Matthew snarled.

„You,“ Michael answered. „I was waiting for you to come to me.“

„That's why you burn up an uninvolved man?“ Dom asked. He raised his axe. „You simply could have dropped us a visit again if you so badly want to see us.“

„And then? Would you answer any of my questions? Would you listen to me? No, you would just brandish your axe and send your seraph to burn me.“

„And what stops me now?“ Dom retorted. „There's nothing left but the shell of a man.“

Michael sighed and raised his right hand, pointing it at Gareth. „I'm sorry,“ he whispered. Gareth swallowed and stumbled backwards. He clutched his throat, which was suddenly feeling dry and hot.

Gareth tried to swallow again to moisten his throat, but every drop of spit seemed to have evaporated. He coughed and reached behind to find some hold, grappling for the chest of drawers and swiping a few picture and figurines to the floor.

Suddenly, he was encased in black, blue eyes staring at him. He heard Okaranza shout something and, just a moment later, Dom cursing. But all he could concentrate on was the slow cooling of his throat, the feeling of heat disappearing. He drew a shaky breath and nodded. Shortly after, the wings were gone from around him and Gareth saw Michael standing a few metres to the left from where he had stood before, Dom's axe buried in the wall next to him. The archangel cocked his head and frowned at Matthew.

„Now this is a most curious behaviour for you, seraph.“

„Fuck off,“ Matthew snarled. „What do you want from us this time?“

„I heard rumours,“ Michael answered. „Disconcerting rumours if they're true.“ He glanced at Dom. „Don't get me wrong, I'm past caring if your little pagan soul falls into the endless pit or is rescued, but if there's a way to unbind souls from each other, the whole Heavenly Judicature will be endangered.“

Matthew frowned and took a step closer to Michael, spreading his wings behind him, his eyes shining red. „Not you as well,“ he growled. „Where did you get that stupid rumour from?“

„It doesn't matter where it's from,“ Michael retorted. „We have to check its validity. And you've got to admit, you're not the most trustworthy of angels.“ He flicked his hand forward towards Matthew in a quick movement.

The seraph ducked and moved his wings down. Nevertheless, Gareth noticed something akin to a gust of wind slicing through Matthew's hair and a few strands floating through the air and coming to land on Matthew's shoulder and wings.

Hissing, Matthew jerked the front pair of his wings forward, sending two balls of fire towards Michael who managed to dodge, the fire burning through the pictures and wallpaper behind him. The archangel stopped in his movements and white mist emerged from his mouth, swirling until the blond angel with three wings stood before them, an ivory lance in his hand.

„You're more demon than angel anyway,“ Michael said. He paused in his movement to raise the lance, his eyes wide. „Maybe that's the key. After all, we can't bind a demon, they're not under our judicature. You finally became a true demon.“

„Shut your filthy gob,“ Matthew roared and catapulted himself forward, the three wings on his right side in front of him. „I am no demon!“ he shouted and thrust the wings forward shortly before he reached Michael.

Michael dodged, but couldn't avoid Matthew's wings grazing his own wings and arm. Hissing, Michael raised the lance with one hand and jabbed it towards Matthew, who just managed to avoid it.

„They're going to kill each other,“ Okaranza whispered. She stared at the fighting angels, her right hand gripping the handle of her gun, which still stuck in the holster beneath her arm.

„It's bound to happen sooner or later,“ Dom answered. He was sitting on the couch a few metres to the side, showing no signs to help Matthew in his fight.

„Aren't you going to help your partner?“

Dom laughed and reclined against the backrest. „Matthew's a seraph, Michael's an archangel. Five minutes on Google will reveal to you the one who doesn’t stand a chance.“

„And you'd let him kill an archangel?“

Dom shrugged. „Why shouldn't I?“ He turned his head in time to see Matthew throwing himself out of line of attack from Michael's lance, straight onto the coffee table next to Dom. Cursing, Dom jumped up and out of the way of the fighting angels while the table went up in flames.

Without taking much notice of the burnt furniture, Matthew pushed himself up from the heap of ash and bolted towards Michael again, the air around his hands flickering from the heat around them.

„I will kill you!“ Matthew screamed and pushed his hand forward, managing to grab one of Michael's wings. The archangel screamed as smoke sizzled upwards from his wings. „I'll burn you and the last thing you'll see is my laughing face before your head lies before my feet,“ Matthew snarled.

„And you think your keeper will do that for you?“ Michael shouted. He jabbed the lance towards the hand holding his wing and Matthew let go, jumping backwards. „Do you think he'll go out of his way to behead someone just because you're feeling vengeful?“

Michael spread his wings in one quick movement, blinding white filling the room within a split second. Gareth squeezed his eyes closed, pressing his hands against his eyelids until he didn't know if he was seeing starry dots because of the sudden burst of light or because of the pressure of the heels of his hands.

He heard Matthew screaming and blinked, testing if it was possible to open his eyes without further pain. The room was still brightly illuminated and black lights danced before his eyes, but Gareth could make out Matthew in the middle of the room if he squinted.

The seraph was standing bent forward, his hands pressed against his eyes and his wings wrapped around himself. From what Gareth could make out, all of the eyes in his wings were hidden.

Something moved and before Gareth could scream a warning at Matthew, Michael had pushed the blunt side of his lance between Matthew shoulder blades and sent him stumbling towards the floor. Cursing, Matthew's knees hit the carpet and he managed to catch the fall with his hands. Before he could rise again, though, Michael had turned the lance around, the sharp tip of it now pressing against Matthew's nape.

„You might be a mighty seraph,“ Michael mocked the kneeling angel, „but your precious eyes are your biggest weakness.“

Matthew growled lowly and moved the hind pair of his wings, but Michael pressed the lance a fraction further down, shaking his head. „I deeply lament that mine is not the chance to pass judgement on you, filthy lowlife.“

„If you don't want my seraph's earlier proclamation to become truth sooner than later, you better let go of him now,“ Dom snarled. He had used the lapse of Michael's attention towards him to retrieve his axe and was pressing the weapon against Michael's throat now.

Carefully, Michael lifted his lance from Matthew's nape and raised the hand holding it. He flicked the hand and the lance flickered before disintegrating. „Be careful, your little _seraph_ might not be as loyal as you are,“ Michael warned before he disappeared.

„Then that'll be my problem to deal with, imbecile dickhead,“ Dom shouted after the angel. He sighed and rubbed over his eyes with one hand before reaching down and grabbing Matthew's left upper arm and pulling the seraph up.

Once Matthew was standing, Donar let go of the arm and pushed his hand over Matthew's nape, brushing the hair away and looking at the point where Michael's lance had been pressed again. He huffed and pushed his hand on top of Matthew's head, ruffling the hair in the process. „Not even a scratch.“

Growling, Matthew batted Dom's hand away and turned around. „I'm sorry to disappoint you, oh mighty Viking warrior, no battle scars from this fight.“

Dom just rolled his eyes and walked over to the body of the man that Michael had possessed before. He knelt down and reached for the pulse, waiting a moment before sighing and rising again.

„Why do you still bother to check the pulse?“ Matthew asked. „You know he's dead as soon the first burn marks show.“

Dom shrugged. „Maybe I'd like to be proven wrong in these circumstances just once.“

„He's dead?“ Okaranza asked. She walked over to the body and knelt down next to it, turning the man onto his back. She unbuttoned his shirt and gasped at the heat blisters that covered his chest.

Gareth had followed her and pressed his fist against his mouth. He had seen many strange and hard to stomach sights, but the red skin and pus-filled blisters on the man's chest were among the sights that were hardest to take.

He turned away and watched Matthew ruffling his wings and slowly opening the eyes in them and blinking. He noticed Gareth watching and winked, before straightening his wings in one quick movement and then folding them loosely behind himself.

„What are you going to do with this poor man?“ Okaranza asked.

„Call the mortician and then talk to the widow,“ Dom answered. „Every exorcist knows one or two morticians who won't ask too many questions about the state of the corpse or the manner of death resulting in decapitation or vastly burnt or chewed on flesh.“

Okaranza nodded and reached out to close the man's eyes. She stood again. „What are you going to tell the widow?“

„The truth,“ Dom answered. „I'm not going to lie to someone mourning the death of a close person. That'd be disrespectful towards the mourner as well as the deceased.“

„How often do you fail to save someone?“

Dom shrugged. „It's not the majority, and anything else I won't count.“ He glanced sideways. „You're homicide division, aren't you? You always come too late.“

„I'm not in homicide.“ She sighed and looked down at the corpse again. „Still, we're not always on time either.“

Looking up again, her eyes fell on Matthew who was looking at the photos on the wall, a disdainful sneer on his face.

„Have you ever possessed someone?“ Okaranza addressed the seraph.

Matthew turned from the photo of a happy couple to look at her. „I couldn't,“ he answered. „Whoever I'd possess would burn within the moment I entered their body. Furthermore, I never felt the need to cowardly disguise myself as someone else.“ He walked over to the group and stopped just before Okaranza. „Do you have enough of exorcising now?“

„No,“ she retorted and crossed her arms. „I'll be joining you more often now. I don't care what you think of the law, but you're tiptoeing on the border of illegality and I'm not sure from which side you're approaching that line. And don't you dare threaten me again.“

Matthew snorted and wrapped his wings around himself. „Do as you wish, but don't come crying when you can't deal with this world,“ he snarled and shrunk until he was a raven again. He flew up to sit on Dom's shoulder, croaking.

 

 

Dom closed the door behind him and slipped out of the jacket, hanging it onto the coat hanger in the corridor. He sighed and rolled his shoulders. Gareth had offered to accompany officer Okaranza home and answer some of the questions she might have after the fight with Michael while Dom spoke to the widow.

Dom doubted that Gareth would be able to answer all of the officer's questions, but the boy had been quick on the uptake and he also was smart enough to know which topics to steer clear of, so Dom had just nodded and watched them leave.

He walked into the living room and found Matthew lying on his back in the hammock, wings hanging over the cloth of the hammock and a half-emptied bottle of mead hanging in his fingers. He didn't acknowledge Dom's appearance, so the Viking sat down in his chair and reached out to take the bottle from Matthew's fingers to take a sip.

Matthew grunted, but didn't complain, a pair of the eyes on his middle wings opening to watch Dom.

Chuckling at this open display of sloth, Dom held out the bottle of mead. Sighing, Matthew reached out to take it back and emptied it in one go. He let his arm hang down again and carelessly allowed the bottle to slip from his fingers and fall onto the floor. It rolled beneath the hammock in a semi-circle before it stilled. Dom lifted an eyebrow, but Matthew still didn't utter a word.

„Little piece of shit,“ Matthew hissed eventually.

Dom nodded.

„Fucking arrogant, self-righteous, egomaniac piece of shit,“ Matthew continued. „Thinks he knows it all. Thinks he knows _me_. Fucking piece of shit knows nothing, that's what he knows. He should verify his sources before vilifying others.“

He opened his eyes and sat up abruptly, the hammock swinging from the sudden movement. He stared at Dom. „Do you believe it?“ he asked. „Do you believe him?“

„Matthew, I told you before…“ Dom started, but Matthew spread his wings, revealing even more eyes that stared at Dom.

„Tell me, Donar, do you believe the rumours?“

Dom shook his head. „No, I don't believe them.“

The blue eyes stayed fixated on Dom for a while, before they closed and hid behind black feathers. Matthew fell back onto the hammock again, swinging for a while. „I never thought about breaking the soul bond,“ he admitted after a while.

„I know,“ Dom answered, smiling. He reclined against the backrest of the chair and looked up at the ceiling. „Some of the sack mead should be done soon, too,“ he announced after a while.

„Is it?“ Matthew retorted, the grin easily audible.

They continued to sit in silence, Matthew swaying in his hammock and humming to himself. Dominic turned his head and looked at the book shelf, trying to find a book that he'd be in the mood to read. He settled on a book about the Thirty Years' War. Historians always served to bring disport and amusement.

He just turned in his chair and stretched to reach for the book, when the doorbell went. He turned back to look into the direction of the house door and frowned. „At this time?“

„I'm not doing anymore today,“ Matthew grunted. „If you want to exorcise something, you're on your own.“

„Just don't overexert yourself,“ Dom sighed and pushed himself into a standing position just when the bell rang a second time. „Coming,“ he called out and trudged along the corridor. Sighing again, he opened the door and looked at the street and the little pathway leading up to his steps.

He frowned and was about to call for Matthew to check for any supernatural activity when he noticed a spot in front of him that was darker than its surroundings. Dom growled at the spot that floated closer to him, stopping a few metres away from the door.

„Follow me,“ a voice was transmitted.

„What do you want, Belial?“ Dom asked. He heard footsteps behind him approaching, paws clicking over the parquet floor of the corridor.

„The old airport,” Belial's voice sounded. „You better come within an hour if you want to see your dear Mr Brennan again.”

Matthew growled and jumped past Dom, but the concentration of darkness collapsed into itself and disappeared.

Dom sighed and walked back into the house, closing the door after himself and Matthew. „Seems you won't have a lazy night after all.”

Matthew growled and trotted upstairs, stopping in front of the room Dom kept his main weapons in.

„What do you reckon he wants now?” Dom asked.

Matthew straightened and unwrapped his wings from himself, shrugging. „Who knows? He's a fucking pest. Maybe he's trying to get himself killed for good.”

„I have to admit, I find myself caring less and less for any consequences of actually killing Belial,” Dom murmured and slipped into the chain mail before attaching the skeggöx to his belt. „Or Michael, while we're at it.”

Matthew glanced at the Viking and took the helmet out of the wardrobe. „You know what that'd cause.”

„I know,” Donar said and picked the helmet from Matthew's hand and walked out of the room. Matthew stood and looked after the Viking. He wouldn't be lamenting either of them, but the consequences of killing just one of them were potentially grave even for the seraph.

He shook his head and crouched down to turn into a raven before setting off to follow Donar.

 

 

Donar climbed over the gate of the park and looked over what once had been an airfield. He looked towards the hangar and squinted. There was some light, but anything else was not recognisable.

„Does he really expect us to walk over the whole airfield?” Donar groaned.

Matthew landed on his shoulder and croaked, ruffling his wings. He shuffled on Donar's shoulder and flexed his claws. Something felt wrong. He croaked again.

Donar shrugged. „We don't really have any choice but to go on, do we?” He turned his head to look at Matthew while walking towards the hangar. „Or do you want to sacrifice our lodger?”

Matthew croaked quietly and buried his beak in the feathers beneath his wings.

„Thought so,” Donar answered.

They walked for a while, the silhouettes of someone standing next to something lying on the floor slowly coming into appearance. Matthew flapped his wings and took off. He hovered next to Donar and stretched his legs until his feet touched gently on the concrete ground. He ruffled his wings and folded them behind his back. The bad feeling had only intensified during their walk.

„Be careful,” he murmured. „The bastard is planning something.”

„I was wondering how long you were planning to sit on my shoulder,” Donar retorted without stopping to look at the seraph.

Matthew stopped and grabbed Donar's arm. „I'm serious. Something is wrong, can't you feel it? You're old, you learned to trust your instincts long ago.”

„I know,” Donar said and plugged his skeggöx off his belt. „But as I said, we don't have much choice but to go on, do we?”

Matthew shrugged and let go of Donar's arm, wordlessly walking next to him. He rolled his shoulders again, ruffling his wings. They were tingling unpleasantly and he couldn't quite make out why. Something strong was lying in the air around them, some kind of ancient magic he couldn't quite grasp yet. It was somewhat familiar.

„Dominic, Matthew!” Belial called out when they were in visual range. He stood next to a curled up Gareth. „I know you wouldn't disappoint,” he sneered and looked down at the body to his feet. „Your dear lodger is just asleep for now.”

Matthew growled and squinted sideways. He noticed other bodies, five as he counted, arranged around Belial and Gareth, lines of blood connecting them.

„Angels?” he asked, counting four wings each. He caught a glimpse of one of the heads, the countenance of a lion and an eagle looking with empty eyes towards him, the other two countenances averted from Matthew. „You actually managed to kill five cherubim?”

„It's not too hard once you figure out their weakness,” Belial answered. „Of course, you also need to get them alone, which is the hardest part.”

„What do you want this time?” Donar growled.

„What do you think?” Belial retorted. „What we always want.” He pointed at Matthew. „We want your seraph. He belongs to us.”

„I don't belong to any of you,” Matthew shouted. „When will you finally get that into your thick brimstone heads?”

„You'll soon be on our team,” Belial laughed and kicked Gareth's unconscious body before him. Donar growled and took a step forward, gripping his skeggöx tighter. He stopped before his feet crossed or even touched the lines of blood. He looked down and frowned.

„What's wrong?” Belial sneered. „Scared?”

Donar looked up and opened his mouth to snap back, but before he could retort anything, Belial had pushed himself forward. He grabbed Donar's collar and yanked the Viking forward. Matthew darted towards them and grabbed Donar's arm to prevent him from being pulled forward. He was too late, though.

Belial pulled Donar forward and pushed him further into the construction of red lines. Matthew stumbled after them, his hold on Donar's arm slipping away.

Matthew stopped and shivered. He looked down at his hands and frowned, the marks on his hips burning. He looked up to see Donar's axe just slipping from his hands.

„What have you done?” Matthew snarled at Belial.

„It wasn't easy,” Belial said, jovially. He looked up at the night sky. „ _First there was a word._ He's all about words, so much I always knew, it could only be one word, maybe two. But which would He use to bind you to a heathen?” Belial briefly glanced at Donar, who was kneeling on the ground, before walking over to Matthew. „And which would be what he thinks of as the opposite? I'd never have guessed…”

„What the fuck are you talking about?” Matthew hissed.

Belial shook his head and reach out to yank Matthew's hair, pulling the seraph closer to whisper into his ear. „Sperare – as opposed to paeniteo.”

Growling, Matthew pushed the demon away. „I don't know what you're on about.”

He heard a rattling sound and turned towards the source, finding Donar crouched into himself. Matthew squinted. He wasn't sure if the lighting was playing tricks on his eyes or if Donar's hair really was getting lighter, losing its colour.

The marks on his hips where burning, painfully now. Matthew looked down and found the dark red a shade lighter than usual. There was no mistaking this change, he had seen those marks in every light possible and even if he wasn't sure about the colour of Donar's hair, he knew the shade his marks were supposed to be.

He walked over to Donar and looked down at the Viking. There was no doubt now, that Donar indeed was catching up on his age. His hair had almost withered away, flimsy, white strands floating away in the gentle breeze. Deep crinkles covered Donar's face, his skin hanging loosely from the bones.

„What have you done?” he asked and knelt down next to Donar.

„I reversed His spell. I finally found the word He used to bind you,” Belial answered. „And I found the word He would deem as an opposite in your case. It's really telling, don't you think? And I guess the rest, you know. Reversing the spell means unfixing Dominic's soul. And you know, once he's dead, no one will believe you. I didn't spread that little rumour for nothing. You'll be ours. You can only join the ranks of Hell once the little Viking his dead.”

Matthew glowered at Belial, trying to ignore the increasing burn on his hips. He looked down to find the marks almost gone. Letting his eyes wander to the weak form next to him, he saw formerly steel grey eyes gazing lustrelessly up at him.

„He believes me…” Matthew muttered.

„He'll be dead soon,” Belial snorted. „And little Brennan here won't be heard by anyone. You've seduced and blinded him after all.” He walked over to Matthew and Donar and knelt down next to the seraph, poking Donar and chuckling. „Oh, proud, proud seraph, your arrogance and pride are indeed your downfall.”

A rattling sound was heard from Donar, somewhat resembling Matthew's name. It was a plea, but Matthew couldn't even make out for what. Was the Viking pleading for him to save him? Surely not. Donar would never beg for mercy or his live. And above all he wouldn't beg Matthew to save him.

Matthew felt something on his wrist and looked down at the wrinkly hand that tried to pull his hand closer. It wasn't a plea to be saved, Matthew realised. It was a farewell and a plea for Matthew to finish this.

The seraph stared down at the hand that had marked him almost two thousand years ago and that he had fought against for such a long time. He could kill his warden now. Just like everyone would believe he'd done. He could finally rid himself of that insolent human daring to claim _him_.

Donar pulled weakly on Matthew's wrist again, causing Belial to laugh and poke Donar's head. „Aren't humans pathetic? Even your proud Viking resorts to begging for his life when the end is nigh.”

„Shut up,” Matthew snarled and brought his wings forward, sending a fireball forward. Belial fell back and rolled over the floor, screeching at the flames that surrounded him. Without paying attention to the burning demon rolling over the ground, Matthew reached down to grab Donar's other hand, yanking both hands up and pressing them against his hips.

He felt the familiar burn on his skin, slowly crawling deeper into his flesh and Donar's hold on him strengthening.

„What are you doing?” Belial screeched. Matthew turned his head and glared at the archdemon, the formerly slicked back hair now standing in all directions, curled from the heat of Matthew's fireball. The premiers on Belial's right wing looked rather scorched, too, Matthew noticed with some satisfaction.

„Making my choice,” he answered. „I'll never again belong to Heaven nor will I belong to Hell.”

„I can't believe you,” Belial spat. „You're still an angel. Whatever you do or say, you'll never be able to deny your very core.”

„I don't see what business of yours it is what I decide to deny and what not,” Matthew hissed.

„You're a lost cause,” Belial snarled. Matthew noticed his eyes flicking to Donar behind him, before the demon wrapped his wings around himself and disappeared in a flutter of black feathers and mist. Growling, Matthew turned around.

Donar was standing in front of him again, skeggöx gripped tightly and blond hair sticking up at various angles. Steel grey eyes looked back at Matthew without any hint of weakness.

„Feeling strong again?” Matthew asked.

„Could pull out trees,” Donar answered and ran a hand through his hair. He looked sideways and sighed. „Let's check on Gareth.”

Matthew nodded and followed Donar. He knelt down next to the human and put his finger on Gareth's throat, concentrating on any traces Belial might have left in Gareth. He didn't notice anything, just the usual aura of innocence and curiosity that was so typically Gareth.

„He's clean,” Matthew murmured. „Just a simple sleeping spell that should dissipate soon enough. We should get him home.”

Donar nodded and hummed. He attached the skeggöx to his belt and lifted his hands to frown at them, flexing his fingers. Matthew looked down again and ruffled his feathers just when he noticed Donar looking down at him. He waited for a question or some kind of statement, but the Viking remained silent.

„How do we get sleeping beauty home?” Matthew asked. „Carrying would cause some unwanted attention I imagine.”

„He's also too heavy,” Donar grunted. „Can't you teleport the both of you?”

„Teleporting with someone else? Have you forgotten what happened last time?”

„I'm sure you know our house well enough to not reappear with Gareth stuck in the masonry,” Donar retorted. „I also know that you care enough about him to not pull such a stunt again.” Donar knelt down next to them and grinned at Matthew. „Just be nice one time, I won't tell anyone. Promise.”

Matthew grunted and reached down to pull Gareth's arm over his shoulder. „You promised,” he growled and concentrated on Gareth's room before disappearing.

 

 

Matthew sat on Gareth's bed when he heard the door go and Donar's boots being thrown into the corner of the corridor, keys following suit. Sighing, Matthew shifted and carefully slipped out or Gareth's arms that had found their way around his waist a while ago.

Gareth grunted and shifted forward, still fast asleep. Matthew looked down at him and grinned. This human was truly his. He reached out and brushed some of the hair away, fingertips brushing over the scar left by Leraikha's molten bullet. Where his fingertips touched the scar tissue, it disappeared, leaving smooth and healthy skin.

Matthew jerked his hand away and took a step backwards. He looked down at his hand that was still almost in the same position. He raised it to his eyes. The fingers looked like they always did. And yet…

Had he really reached the right decision tonight?

Matthew turned his head to look at the door and into the direction where he heard Donar moving about. He sighed and quietly left the room to walk downstairs. He walked into the living room and was met with the sight of Donar sitting on a large pillow on the floor, a collection of soft brushes at the Viking's side.

„Matthew, come to me.”

Matthew glanced at the brushes and back at the Viking who had shed his shirt. „What?”

Donar chuckled and pat his lap. „Come on. I know you want to.”

„Seriously?” Matthew asked. He walked closer to Donar and knelt down in front of him. In all those years, Matthew had only managed to talk Donar into grooming his wings twice. It had taken weeks of pestering, almost begging, before the Viking had caved in, and then only with unreasonable demands.

„Of course,” Donar answered brightly and reached out to pull Matthew forward, pushing and pulling until Matthew was perched on his lap, head lying on Donar's right knee. „I think you've earned it tonight.”

„You really are offering to groom my wings? No demands or requests connected?”

Matthew felt Donar shifting and briefly after felt soft bristles brush over the margin of his outer wing. He moaned softly and closed his eyes.

„No demands or requests connected,” Donar affirmed.

Matthew sighed contentedly and spread his wing further, shivering at the feeling of soft bristles and fingers carefully straightening his feathers. He certainly didn't get his wings groomed nearly enough. This was better than any sex. He wondered if Donar even knew just how much of a soft spot this was. That damn Viking could easily make Matthew cooperate if he just offered to groom the wings regularly.

On the other hand, their whole relationship didn't work on offering and cooperation. It ran on taking and forcing the other into giving and that fitted them just fine.

„How's Gareth?” Donar asked after a while.

„Fine,” Matthew muttered. „He's still asleep.”

„We really need to force some self-defence lessons on him.”

Matthew hummed and nodded. „Won't help against the likes of Belial, though.”

„Can't hurt to know some basics.”

Matthew nodded again and shifted, bringing another part of his wing into Donar's reach. They remained silent until Donar had finished the three wings on this side and motioned for Matthew to turn around. Grunting, the seraph complied and idly stretched the inner wing towards Donar.

„Why?”

Matthew's eyes shot open and he turned his head towards Donar, forcing all his attention on the Viking who swallowed.

„Why did you save me?” Donar specified as if Matthew hadn't understood the question already. „You know that wasn't what I begged you for.”

Matthew shifted and contemplated for a brief moment to flee the scene, but he felt a firm hand take hold of his wrist. He blinked, the wings of his eyes still staring straight at Donar, noticing every tiny detail of discomfort, the small crease between the eyebrows, the minute twitching of nostrils and left corner of the lips.

„I know,” he eventually answered. He felt Donar's fingers leave his wrist, instead moving to brush over the marks on his hips. „I don't want even more regret…” Matthew admitted.

He felt the brush against his wings again, carefully avoiding his still open eyes. After a while, Matthew allowed himself to relax again and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply in order to prepare for the next question.

„And?” Donar asked softly, fingers brushing through feathers and straightening them.

„I couldn't possibly kill you. I have nowhere else to go,” Matthew whispered. He could endure being banned. He could also endure being despised by anyone. What he couldn't face was an eternity of being lost. He had seen what it had done to Samyaza. He couldn't end like his former friend. He'd destroy the world in an attempt to escape losing himself, but even that wouldn't end him. It'd only doom him to a life in blackness.

„What did you do?”

„I…” Matthew swallowed and shook his head.

„Matthew?” Donar asked.

„Does it matter?” Matthew retorted. „You're still alive.”

„You didn't re-establish the soul bond,” Donar continued. „It feels different.”

„I can't soul-bind myself,” Matthew snarled and pushed himself off Donar. He heard the brush hit the carpet just a split second before Donar's hands were on his hips, pulling him back again.

„What have you done?” Donar whispered into Matthew's ear.

„Nothing that'd change much about us,” Matthew answered. He was still staring ahead, refusing to show Donar just one of his eyes.

„But it changes _something_ ,” Donar stated. Matthew didn't answer. He sat, staring ahead. Maybe he should bolt, flee from this situation and not return until he was needed during another exorcism. Donar wouldn't let him go until the Viking's question had been answered, so flight would be the only option.

„Matthew, if it's something I'd better know…”

Matthew shook his head. He raised his wings to shield his face, shoulders drawn forward. He wouldn't answer. Maybe one day, but not this night, nor this week, month or even century.

„Believe me, it doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything.”

He heard Donar sigh and felt the hands on his hips pulling him back, but he refused. If that damn Viking thought it'd only take a bit of brushing through his feathers, he could think again.

„Fine,” Donar sighed again. ”I'll accept that for now. Now get back in position. I'm not done with your wings.”

Hesitantly, Matthew looked over his shoulder. „You won't ask further?”

Donar shook his head and held the brush up. „Won't ask for a year if it makes you happy.”

Matthew frowned and pulled his head back. „Your compliance to my moods is suspicious.”

Donar laughed and reached out with his free hand to push Matthew's shoulder down. „I'm feeling generous tonight. Don't get used to it.”

Grunting, Matthew complied and curled up on Donar's lap, stretching his inner wing towards him again. Donar finished the three wings in silence, humming an old song his mother had sung to him. Matthew smiled and drifted off, moaning every now and then.

Eventually, the brushing stopped and a soft thud indicated that the brush had hit the carpet.

„I think we should see Lady Darklis to finish my tattoos,” Donar said. Matthew felt him shift and opened the eyes in his wings to find Donar reclining against the chair behind him. „I've had enough with those angels and demons.” He looked down at Matthew. „Are you with me?”

Matthew lifted his head to look at Donar. „Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Sorry, it was too tempting once that idea had surfaced.


	14. In Beakers or Latin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Lady Darklis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo! She‘s not dead. :O I do try to get back into more regular writing, but lifes busy these past months…
> 
> This chapter‘s name is take from the Jane Austen Argument song _When the End of the World came_. Very good song.

„Do you have any plans for the weekend?”

Gareth turned his head, directing his attention from the news on the TV to his landlord. He shook his head. „No, why?”

„Now you have plans,” Matthew drawled and crawled over the couch towards Gareth. He put his hand on Gareth's leg and dragged it upwards while brushing his lips over Gareth's ear. „We're going to see Lady Darklis.”

Gareth pulled his head back to look at Matthew before looking at Dom again. „And you've planned a whole weekend? Why are you seeing her?”

„I need to get my tattoos finished,” Dom answered.

„Finished? You already have a lot of runes inked into your sides, don't you?”

„I do, but they're not yet finished. There are still a few spells missing. I just never felt the need for them yet.” Dom closed the book he'd been reading and leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees. „You're going to get a few tattoos as well.”

Gareth frowned and glanced at Matthew. The seraph was chuckling at him. Gareth looked back at Dom. „Am I?”

„Do you want to survive?”

Gareth nodded.

„Improve your chances,” Dom continued. He picked up his book again and leant back to immerse himself into the history of the Thirty Year War again.

„You want him to survive?” Matthew asked. Gareth frowned at the seraph. Why was he asking this question as if he was surprised that Dom didn't want Gareth to die? Also there was another question at the back of his mind, demanding his attention and to be asked.

„Survive what?” he asked.

He was ignored, though. Instead of answering Gareth's question, Dom looked at Matthew for a while. Even he seemed unable to figure out the intention of Matthew's question.

„Of course,” he eventually answered. „Don't you?”

„Oh, I think it'd be more fun with him alive,” Matthew drawled and turned his head to smirk at Gareth. He crawled closer again, pressing his lips against Gareth's ear. „I'm not done seducing you yet.”

„You'll never give up, do you?” Gareth asked.

„No, why should I?” Matthew chuckled and lifted his hand to trace Gareth's cheek. „Never backed down from a challenge.”

Sighing, Gareth disentangled himself from Matthew and rose. „You know my answer.”

 

 

„I can't believe you never bothered to get a driving license,” Gareth said and looked back at the street they've been coming from. They had ended up somewhere in the suburbs and had been walking from the last station towards the cliffs. Detached and semi-detached houses were lining the small street, all of them facing the sea.

Dom shrugged. „Never needed to. I can ride horses and bikes, that's usually enough.” He looked at Matthew on his shoulder. The raven croaked and Dom started laughing.

„What did he say?” Gareth asked.

„He suspects you're out of breath. Growing up as a civilised man made you soft.”

Gareth pouted at the cackling raven and sped up. He stopped however to look down at the sea, waves breaking themselves at the rocks. He looked over his shoulder at the houses. „I guess this is a rather expensive area.”

„It is. I used to have a house down the street,” Dom answered and pointed forward. „Sold it for quite a good price, and that was about 15 years ago. Prices have gone up since then.”

„You used to live here? Why did you sell the house?”

„That's the problem of being immortal and not ageing, people start noticing how they change and you just don't. I almost ended at the stake a few times because of that. You learn how to read the signs and move on.”

Gareth nodded and looked back at the sea. He could hear the waves roaring even high up above them. „Is there a period you'd like to go back to?”

Dom shrugged. He followed Gareth's eyes to the raging waves, humming. „I did like the roughness and wildness of the time I've been born into.” He looked up to grin at Gareth. „If you're born and raised a warrior, you'll never be anything else.” He looked back to the sea. „I have to admit, I do appreciate the rise of comfort and luxury that comes with each modern time, though.”

„And yet you don't want a car,” Gareth stated.

Dom laughed. „We don't want to get too soft now, do we?” He turned and jerked his head into the direction they were headed. „Come on, you don't want to grow old before we arrive, do you?”

Gareth huffed and turned as well to follow Dom. „Just because I can grow old doesn't mean you have to tease me with your everlasting youth.”

„I'm sure growing old has its merits,” Dom chuckled. Matthew croaked something and Dom scrunched up his face. „No, losing my hair definitely doesn't count as a merit.” He looked down at the cliff for a while. „Maybe I should let it grow again. Sometimes I miss my plaits.”

„I don't think you'd be keeping up a low profile with plaits,” Gareth pointed out. „They're not exactly the heights of men's fashion at the moment.”

„Sadly,” Dom sighed. „There's nothing wrong with plaits on a man.”

„I‘m sure they‘ll be en vogue again some day.“ Gareth sighed and looked back once again. „How much longer do we have to walk?“

„Not much,“ Dom answered. He pointed ahead. „Do you see the old house that looks just a bit haywire?“

Gareth narrowed his eyes and looked into the direction Dom was pointing at. He noticed gardens that were neatly kept and houses that looked old, but were still kept in good shape, white and brown facades lining the street. There was one building however that looked almost uninhabited. The garden could only be described as wilderness, especially in comparison to the well-manicured lawns of the other houses. An old tree was growing in the garden, its branches throwing heavy shadows over the windows of the house.

Gareth squinted at the building. Some windows of the second floor were devoid of glass and the roof didn‘t leave the impression they‘d be surviving even the tiniest thunderstorm.

„You're not telling me that someone's living here?“

„She's a bit of a loony,“ Dom answered.

„Aren't the neighbours suspicious?“ Gareth asked. He looked back at the cultivated gardens and well-kept houses surrounding their destination.

Dom shook his head. „They see her as some kind of old hippy. Eccentric and out of her mind, but harmless. Her knowledge about herbs is also well-known and appreciated.“ He turned his head to look at Gareth. „She might be able to do something about your scar.“

Gareth lifted his hand to trace the scar in his face. He had spent quite some time with it already and by now he wasn‘t sure if he wanted to get rid of it again. Gareth sighed. Was he becoming more of a Viking himself now?

„I noticed your scar has been getting better,“ Dom stated.

Gareth nodded and frowned. „Yes, I noticed a few days ago,“ he said. „The morning after that incident with Belial it suddenly had lessened.“

He glanced sideways to look at Dom. The Viking hummed and nodded before looking back at the sea, one finger absentmindedly tracing Matthew‘s wing.

They hadn‘t talked to Gareth about what had happened. So all he remembered was bringing detective sergeant Okaranza home while answering her questions before he was surrounded by black smoke and the stench of sulphur. The next thing he remembered was waking in his own bed.

He had the feeling that something important had happened, but any attempt to gather information had been ignored.

Sighing, Gareth looked back at the run-down house. Even the fence looked as if the tiniest gust of wind would blow it away. Dom pushed open the door and walked down the path of broken stones. Gareth followed him, ascending the stairs right after the Viking. At least the door looked sturdy enough to withstand knocking.

Gareth noticed a small sign next to the door, the letters withered away long ago and leaving an indistinguishable pattern of scratches. He surely didn't expect the sound of a bell chiming through the door when Dom pressed the button beneath the former nameplate.

After a while, they heard footsteps shuffling closer and the door was opened, Matthew croaked and spread his wings, taking off to fly into the room before the occupant even was in view.

“Oh, Matthew,” an old, female voice was heard. “What a pleasant surprise you'd drop by my humble abode.”

“Don't flatter him any more than necessary to keep him in a good mood, Darklis,” Dom said.

Gareth craned his neck to catch a peek onto the woman just when the door was opened further. A small woman, her face as unruly as her estate and her white dread locks hanging above her shoulders. He brown leather dress was decorated with charms made of feathers, bones and strange artefacts.

“Dominic, old Viking!” she greeted Dom. “It's always reassuring to see you're still alive,” She opened the door further and only now noticed Gareth standing next to Dom. “And who might you be, little fledgling?”

“Gareth Brennan,” Gareth answered and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Smiling, she took his hand. “You can call me Lady Darklis, sweetie.” She looked back at Dom without letting go of Gareth's hand yet. “And you want to finish your runes.”

Dom nodded. “It's time.”

Lady Darklis narrowed her eyes and stared at Dom for a while before she let go of Gareth's hand and took a step backwards. “Fine. Come in.”

Dom nodded and walked into the house, Gareth closely following suit. He looked around the entry hall while the door fell into its lock behind him. He was standing on a floor tiled with marble stones, an old, wooden staircase with a dark cast-iron handrail leading onto the first floor. Next to the staircase and opposite were two doors. Judging by their colour and pattern, Gareth guessed they were made from dark walnut wood.

He looked away from the door next to them to notice Dom and Lady Darklis ascending the stairs, Matthew already sitting on the end of the handrail and croaking at them. Dom rolled his eyes while Gareth hurried after the small group.

“You could walk a staircase for a change as well, lazy bastard,” Dom growled.

Matthew croaked and ruffled his feathers. He flapped his wings and hovered mid-air for a moment before stretching. His naked feet hit the wooden floorboards and he stretched his wings behind himself. “Why should I lower myself to the level of rodents and other mammals?” he sneered.

Growling, Dom pushed past Lady Darklis and dashed for Matthew. He grabbed Matthew's hair and yanked it back, growling into the seraph's ear. “Watch your tongue, birdie.”

Matthew brought his wings forward, wrapping them around Dom's body, the eyes in them glowing red. “Let go of my hair, Donar,” he growled.

“Or what?” Dom hissed. “You gonna burn me and the house?” He pulled Matthew's head further back before pushing it forward and letting go of it again. Matthew growled and watched the Viking walk past and into a room to their left.

Lady Darklis shook her head and motioned for Gareth to follow her, muttering to herself. “And of course he expects me to finish his bloody tattoos for free. Could at least give me some of those heads in his cellar.“

“Stop whining,” Matthew yawned. “Securing your life should be payment enough for anything we could ask of you.”

“Being under your protection might keep me alive, but your continuous requests make maintaining my work and house difficult.”

“Don't act as if we're raiding you,” Dom's voice came from behind.

Gareth turned to look at his landlord and blinked. He surely wasn't expecting to see Dom dressed in nothing but a black leather skirt reaching down to his ankles, upper body bare and showing the tattoos on his sides.

Dom walked towards them and Gareth managed to catch a glimpse of Dom's ankles and the ring of runes that was inked in a circle around them.

Matthew purred and slid towards Dom, running his hands over Dom's chest. “You in a skirt gets me even hotter than when you're wearing your chain mail,” he drawled. “Let's find an empty room and let me have you.”

“That's not why we're here, Matthew,” Dom growled and pushed the angel off him. He walked passed Gareth and up to Lady Darklis who had stopped in front of the door on the end of the small corridor.

“Ready to be covered in blood and ink?” she asked while pushing the door open. Dom followed her wordlessly.

Gareth looked at Matthew who had walked up to him. “Blood?”

Matthew shrugged. “You'll see.“ He followed Dom and Lady Darklis into the room, leaving Gareth to frown after them before walking into the room as well.

He entered a spacious room with windows on two walls, the daylight lighting up the room. In the corner between two windows — both of them void of glass — an armchair, a table and another chair where positioned, a few cupboards and shelves with small jars and bottles lining the walls beneath the windows. A few other chairs and stools were standing in the room without apparent intent.

“You arrived late,” Lady Darklis said and pointed at the armchair. “We'll have to hurry to at least get one arm down today before it's too dark to see anything.”

“I planned the whole weekend,” Dom answered and walked over to the chair. He let himself fall into it and watched Lady Darklis collect her utensils.

She walked to one of the cupboards and knelt down to retrieve an elongated, flat, brown pocket. Grabbing one of the chairs, she walked to the corner and put the pocket onto the table. She turned and looked at Gareth. “Grab a chair, sweetie, but don't sit in the light.”

Gareth nodded and walked to one of the chairs to drag it towards the corner with the armchair. He positioned the chair in front of the armchair and sat down to watch Lady Darklis collect more items.

Eventually, she returned with two phials, one of them filled with black liquid, the other empty, and a device that reminded Gareth of a pistol. She put everything down on the table and sat down on the chair next to Dom. Reaching for the brown leather pocket, she looked up at Matthew and nodded at the free chair.

“All right, sit down and give me your arm, Matthew.”

Matthew wordlessly walked over to the chair and sat down, holding his left arm out to Lady Darklis.

Humming, she opened the pocket and unwrapped a small, silver knife. Still humming, she took the empty phial and held it beneath Matthew's arm before slicing the skin open. A few drops of blood dripped into the phial and after a while, it was half-filled with angel blood. Still humming, Lady Darklis lifted the phial to her eyes and swirled it around.

“Should be enough,” she murmured and let her hand sink down again while reaching for the phial with ink. She poured some ink into the bottle with blood until it was almost full. She then put the cork into it and swirled it to mix the two liquids.

“You're using Matthew's blood for tattoos?” Gareth asked. He had watched in silence, feeling somewhat queasy at seeing the blood drop from Matthew's arm.

“It's very potent,” Lady Darklis answered. “But it's somewhat tricky. You can't just prick an angel and use their blood on something living. If it's not given voluntarily and with God's approval, it will kill you. Basically, if you defile something pure and holy, you have to be punished.”

Gareth nodded. “I somehow doubt God would approve of Dom getting heretical tattoos with seraph blood, would he?”

Matthew laughed and rose from his chair to walk along the shelves. “He bound me to Donar, there's nothing He could do with approving or disapproving. He's lost His influence on me the moment He banned me from Heaven.”

Gareth nodded and turned back just in time to see Lady Darklis attaching a needle to the pistol and dipping it into the blood ink mixture. “There's some honey on the shelf next to you, Matthew,” she said without looking up.

The seraph hummed and Gareth heard glasses being removed from a shelf. He didn't turn around, though, choosing to watch the first lines being inked into Dom's right wrist.

Lady Darklis worked in silence for a while, circling Dom's wrist with runes. They glowed for a brief moment once each rune was finished. She swiped a cloth over the fresh lines, ink and blood smearing somewhat over Dom's skin, and squinted at the lines. Satisfied with the outcome, Lady Darklis continued with the next rune.

“What have you done to have your seraph this compliant?” Lady Darklis asked after a while. She had moved on to Dom's upper arm and just started on the shoulder. She glanced at Matthew who had just finished his second jar of honey.

“Oh, I didn't have to do much this time,” Dom answered. “Others made this decision easy.”

Lady Darklis squinted at Matthew on the floor and looked back at Dom. “It's time, isn't it? It's about to start.”

Dom nodded. “I'm afraid so.”

“Good to know,” Darklis retorted. “I'll have to take precautions.”

Matthew laughed and stood from the floor, kicking the jar of honey that rolled a few metres until it hit a shelf. “What kind of precautions are there to take if the world is going to end?”

“What?!” Gareth asked. “You're joking. The world's not going to end is it?”

Lady Darklis looked up from the rune she just pierced into Dom's skin. “He's new, isn't he?”

Dom nodded. “Pretty new, yeah. He’s been renting a room for a few months.”

“Well, that's impressive,” Darklis chuckled. “Hardly anyone lasts longer than two months.”

“At least wait until I'm out of earshot before gossiping about me,” Gareth grumbled and crossed his arms. Just a brief moment after, he heard giggling behind him.

“Ickle Gareth is sulking,” Matthew crooned into his ear, one hand sneaking from behind into Gareth's t-shirt. Gareth tried to twist out of Matthew's grasp, but the only thing he succeeded in was enabling Matthew to push his hand further down, stroking over his nipples.

“Stop it, Matthew,” he growled.

“Why should I?” Matthew drawled. He removed his hand nevertheless, only to stroke it over the side of Gareth's face. “You're blushing,” he smirked, “you like it when I touch you.”

“I…” Gareth swallowed and pulled his head back.

“I can touch you in places that make you feel so good,” Matthew purred. He crawled onto Gareth's lap and pushed his face closer to Gareth's. “You will give in,” he whispered into Gareth's ear. “You want to be seduced, don't lie to yourself.”

“I'm not going to sleep with you,” Gareth rattled off his mantra.

“You will,” Matthew retorted.

Gareth shook his head and craned his head to look at Dom and Lady Darklis. They were looking at him and Matthew, grinning. “This talk about apocalypse…”

“It's true I'm afraid,” Dom answered and shrugged. “We're about to unleash a war with Hell and Heaven.”

Gareth blinked and stared at Dom who watched Lady Darklis drawing another line on his shoulder. “ _You_ are?” He looked down at Matthew. “He didn't mean it like that, did he?”

“They only need a tiny nudge to be at each others' throat, and next time we meet Michael and Belial, they're going to get killed,” Matthew answered lightly. He grinned at Gareth and reached up to ruffle his hair.

“You want to kill an archangel?”

“Or an archdemon, respectively,” Dom answered. “Whoever is first.”

“But…” Gareth wanted to object, but he didn't quite find an argument that Dom and Matthew wouldn't discard right away.

“They've been following us since Matthew and I first became soul-bound,” Dom said. “And now they've crossed the line. I've had enough, it's time to add their heads to my collection.”

“But an archangel!” Gareth objected. Even after meeting Michael and witnessing him burn an uninvolved man from the inside, Gareth wasn't quite sure if it was justified to kill an archangel. They were supposed to be the good guys, weren't they?

“You should know by now, that I don't care about who's who on which side in this religion,” Dom retorted.

“But risking the Apocalypse over it,” Gareth whispered. “So many people are going to die. Maybe all of us!”

“It will happen one day or another,” Lady Darklis sai,. “with or without their actions. Hell and Heaven have been at war for aeons, since Lucifer fell from Heaven. He wants God's power to cease.”

“He just wants attention from the big one,” Matthew growled.

“That's why you rebelled, isn't it?” Lady Darklis asked. “You angels just can't stand being neglected.”

Matthew straightened and narrowed his eyes at Lady Darklis. “Shut up,” he snarled.

Lady Darklis chuckled. “I heard gossip, about the most beautiful seraph with the most beautiful voice and how his creator couldn't give him the attention he required. Didn't even allow him to bask in the attention of others.”

“Fucking shut the fuck up!” Matthew roared and pushed himself from Gareth to loom over Lady Darklis, all of his wings spread and eyes staring at the old woman.

She sighed and brushed a stray dread lock behind her ear. “Such a foul mouth. Shame a heavenly voice as yours has to utter those rude words.”

“Darklis, just leave him,” Dom said.

Lady Darklis glanced sideways at Dom and looked back up at Matthew who was still standing with his wings spread. She eventually shrugged and continued to finish the rune close to Dom's neck. “You two really got soft with each other. If I needed any more signs for the nigh apocalypse, this would be the final hint.” She reached for a jar with leaves swimming in golden liquid on the shelf close to her.

She unscrewed the cap and pushed her hand inside before smearing the sticky mass onto Dom's arm.

“Honey?” Gareth asked.

“Of course,” Lady Darklis answered. “This is honey that I made just for people who come to get inked.”

Gareth simply nodded. He wondered if he should point out that pharmacy had found quite a few ointments to be used on fresh tattoos. But he decided against. If any of them wanted to use modern remedies they would.

Lady Darklis continued smearing honey over Dom's arm and wrapped a layer of linen around it, finishing with a slap to Dom's shoulder. Dom hissed and glared at Lady Darklis.

“Rest now. I will continue afternoon.”

“Rest?” Dom asked. “Are you sending us to sleep without dinner?”

Lady Darklis sighed and rose from her chair. “I take it you didn't buy anything on your way to me.”

“Of course not,” Matthew retorted. “We're guests.”

“Well, technically speaking we're customers,” Gareth pointed out.

Lady Darklis nodded and looked pointedly at Dom. “That's what I've been telling you for years now.”

“That you do,” Matthew answered. “And we choose each time to not pay attention.”

“And why should we buy anything from a market when you grow your food yourself,” Dom pointed out. “My conscience doesn't feel too bad about taking advantage of a freshly made meal.”

“Fine, get downstairs and into the kitchen while I clean my tools.”

 

 

Donar lay in the guest bed in one of the spare rooms and looked at the walls. Charms were drawn all over them, most of them drawn by Donar and Matthew. A few masks and ceremonial weapons hung between the charms. There was one sword Donar would have loved to own, Friðþjófr's blade, Angurvadal. But of course, Lady Darklis wouldn't hand over Angurvadal for anything in the world. And now with the impeding Apocalypse she would hang to it for dear life.

Friðþjófr's blade was covered in runes that always emitted a red glow. Usually when Donar stayed in this house, the runes were barely visible even at night. But tonight Angurvadal's glow had increased and Donar could clearly read the inscriptions. He smirked in the darkness. Days of battle were lying ahead.

Donar moved his right arm, hissing when the movement caused a slight burn in the wounds that were scattered all over his arm. He shifted to look at the small entrance, wondering if Matthew would join him or if he would settle down at Gareth's side. Donar hummed and looked back at the glowing runes on the sword. The seraph had changed recently and Donar wasn't sure if it was because of the impeding war or if it was connected to whatever Matthew had done to save Donar.

Whatever Matthew had done, it had changed things. Donar couldn't exactly put a finger on it, but he felt that this change had been immense. It had not just changed Matthew's behaviour, it also had changed Donar. He felt different since he had regained his youth. He frowned and lifted his left hand to stare at it. Donar had a suspicion, but there was no way that he would ask Matthew about that; even if he hadn't promised to refrain from asking for a year.

The door creaked open and Donar directed his attention from his hand to the form lingering in the sparsely lit doorway. Matthew took a step into the room, a plethora of blue eyes directed at Donar. Wordlessly, Matthew crawled onto the bed and curled up against Donar's side, resting against the bandaged arm.

Donar hissed. „Get on the other side.“

„What?“

„Get on my other side, you little idiot,“ Donar repeated and rolled his eyes. „You're lying on my fresh tattoos.“

„Oh,“ Matthew looked down and straightened before crawling over to Donar's other side and rested against him. Donar lifted his arm to pull Matthew closer, smiling when he felt wings lying down on him.

„How's your arm doing?“ Donar asked.

„It was just a small cut, almost healed. What about yours?“

„Itches a bit,“ Donar answered. „And I'm afraid I won't be able to wield an axe for a few days. Even less when both arms are done.“

„I'll burn anyone coming close,“ Matthew murmured. He shifted and closed his eyes, starting to doze off.

Donar lay covered with angel and wings and stared at the blade. It was said the runes would be shining in a bright red in times of war, almost burning like fire. The increased brightness now could only be interpreted as an omen.

„Matthew?“ Donar asked after a while of silence.

The angel only hummed as a sign of encouragement.

„If someone loved you, would you change?“

Matthew lifted his head to frown at Donar. „It's too late for that, isn't it?“

Donar shrugged. „Kinda, we're already in this spiral of sin, aren't we?“

Matthew put his head against Donar's shoulder again, remaining silent. Finally, he whispered, „Yes, if I would have been allowed to care for someone, I might not have fallen.“

„All your rebelling and sinning, just a cry for love.“

Matthew huffed and shifted. „You know, I'm not willing to give without receiving anything in return anymore. I ceased to be a creature of unconditional love.“

„Have I ever not given you what you wanted?“ Donar retorted and raised his hand to stroke the feathers of Matthew's wings.

Purring, Matthew made to lie on Donar, but growled in frustration when he was met with the blanket. He kicked and pulled at it, until it was pooling around Donar's ankles and proceeded to crawl over the human.

Donar observed him with raised eyebrows, waiting for Matthew's next action. But instead of anything sexual as anticipated, Matthew simply lay down, nose buried in the crook of Donar's neck.

„Recently, I find myself worried about you,“ Donar stated. He tried to keep his voice free of any trace of amusement, but he wasn't sure if he succeeded.

Matthew just hummed and shifted, pressing his face further against Donar's neck. If he had noticed the mocking undertone in Donar's statement, he was ignoring it.

„You turned into a cuddler.“

„Blame Gareth…“

Donar laughed. „I doubt anyone could get you to cuddle unless you wanted to yourself.“ He shifted to lift his hand into Matthew's hair, scratching lightly over the scalp.

„Fuck off,“ Matthew mumbled sleepily.

“Charming as always,” Donar stated. He pulled at Matthew's hair, chuckling at the low growl he was met with. „And tomorrow, you'll be waking me up and demanding to have sex.“

„Sounds almost as if you wanted me to seduce you.“

„Oh, I've grown used to that,“ Donar answered. He glanced down at the black figure resting against him. Was this Matthew asking if Donar would be okay with sexual intercourse in the morning? „I'd be worried if I wasn't woken by a horny seraph demanding sex, as a matter of fact.“

He felt Matthew's lips form a smirk against his skin. „Good to know. In this case, there will be a horny seraph waking you.“

 

 

Gareth sat at the kitchen table and sipped on his cup of tea. It was a mixture of green leaves that Lady Darklis had fetched from her garden a few hours ago. Apparently, it had a calming effect. Gareth wasn't too sure about that, he didn't feel particularly tired after finishing half of it.

He looked at the door that Matthew just had disappeared behind. Gareth suspected, that the seraph was upstairs, pestering Dom for sex or just being a general nuisance. Which most likely meant, that Gareth would have to spend the night alone in a strange house and without a seraph to cuddle up to.

„There's been a shift in their behaviour,“ Lady Darklis said. She sat at the table to Gareth's right side. „They've lost their edge.“

Gareth turned his head to look at her. „How so?“ he asked.

„They treat each other softer,“ she shrugged. „Sure, they're still pretty much at each other's throat, but that's how they work together. That's never going to change. They just don't try to actually hurt each other any longer.“

„Well…“

„Last time, I had to treat severe burn and cut injuries. Trust me, they're much more civil now. As if they've finally dropped their masks around each other.“

Gareth frowned and looked at the door for a moment. „Do you think they actually care for each other?“

Lady Darklis chuckled lightly and reached up to twirl one of her dreads. „They always did, or at least since I've known them. They just can't show it. You see, you've got the proud seraph who's fallen from Heaven because he wouldn't love his creator and then you've got the proud Viking warrior who just doesn't do all this emotional shit because he's a proud Viking warrior.“

Gareth nodded. He picked up his mug again to take another sip.

„What about you?“ Lady Darklis asked.

„What about me?“ Gareth retorted, dumbfounded.

„How do you feel about them? I noticed that Matthew's rather intimate towards you as well.“

„He's intimate towards anyone,“ Gareth retorted. “I saw him fucking a nun on the very altar of their church.”

Lady Darklis sighed and nodded. „Yes, my bad, maybe I should say he's friendly and caring towards you?“

Gareth blinked. „He's not caring about me.“

Lady Darklis laughed and flicked the dread lock she had been playing with back. „No, he just sat by your side, positively cuddling all evening and making sure you had enough food.“

„He tried to embarrass me.“

„I've seen him bothering and embarrassing people before,“ Darklis said. „He'd feed you with things you'd deem disgusting.“

Frowning, Gareth thought back to the evening. Matthew indeed had fed him, insisting that Gareth should eat anything that the seraph held in front of him, often simply pressing their lips together to make sure Gareth swallowed. But it had been months since Matthew actually had tried to make Gareth eat something disgusting.

„He…“

„He likes you,“ Lady Darklis affirmed. “Which also might be the only reason why you're still their lodger.”

Gareth hummed and stared into his tea. He gave the mug a push and watched the tea inside twirl around. „You said they always cared for each other?“

„Sure, as far as I've heard, they were only supposed to be together for a year. After that Dom should have decided were Matthew belongs, Heaven or Hell.“

„And he decided to bind Matthew to himself forever,“ Gareth murmured.

„Exactly. They always knew that they belong together.“

Gareth shook his head and looked up again. “He wanted to use Matthew for his revenge.”

Lady Darklis shook her head. “He wanted Matthew for himself.”

Gareth hummed and emptied his mug. “Then I don't understand how he can be okay with Matthew being intimate with so many other people.”

Lady Darklis shrugged and stood. She took the two empty mugs and placed them in the sink, looking at them for a moment and shaking her head, mumbling something about tomorrow. She turned around to look at Gareth. “What's one human life against a century? In the end it's always them against the world.”

”Do you think there have been people they cared for?” Gareth asked. “Like lovers?”

“A century without lovers?” Lady Darklis retorted. “I don't think so. I'm sure there were special people, for both of them. None of them ever talks about those, though.”


	15. To Friends You Don't Call Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Big Things cast their Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, dead she is not! Hooray!
> 
> This chapter‘s name is taken from the Jason Webley song _Still_

Gareth sat on his chair and watched Lady Darklis work on Dom's left arm. They were talking to each other, currently debating about how to use Key of Solomon spells. Gareth didn't even bother to try and make sense of their words. He hadn't slept well this night, the strange charms and ceremonial weapons that lined the walls of his assigned room proving to be excellent fertile soil for his thoughts.

He had thought about Lady Darklis' words regarding Matthew's behaviour towards him. She could be right, Gareth figured. If one looked closer, Matthew so obviously wasn't just the sinner he liked to make everyone believe. It still was hard to believe that he saw anything else than a mere plaything in Gareth.

He glanced at the seraph who was sitting on the floor, emptying yet another jar of honey. Gareth sighed. He had come to the conclusion, that he hadn't even given Matthew the benefit of the doubt. Quite frankly, he had been too afraid of being let down as soon as he gave in. He still was. He had grown to appreciate the seraph as a friend. He didn't want to be proven how childish this notion was by being cast away.

Gareth turned his head to look back at Dom and Lady Darklis. She had reached Dom's elbow and was inking a rune into the skin just above. It reminded Gareth of the other topic that had kept him awake. He knew there was quite simply nothing he could say or do to stop Dom and Matthew from killing Belial or Michael. They would kill both demon and angel with no regards to the consequences.

Gareth's thoughts turned to his family. His mother had always wanted to see him together with a wife, surrounded by a dozen of children. His father had always just grunted that he wouldn't be available for kindergarten duties at which his mother had called him a liar.

Should Gareth warn them? Could he even attempt to save them or anyone when the Apocalypse really came? He didn't even know what would happen. Would comets hit the Earth? Rains of sulphur and brimstone come down? Maybe the Earth would simply be covered in a monstrous flood. Maybe armies of angels and demons would use Earth as their battlefield. For all he knew, all of those options could happen at the same time.

“I heard the trolls are waking from their stone slumber,” Lady Darklis just said.

Dom shook his head. “Trolls that see the sun can never wake up from their slumber. It's known fact.”

“Is it?” Lady Darklis retorted and dipped the needle of the tattoo gun into the ink blood mixture without looking up. “I seem to recall another, almost forgotten legend.”

“When a new god rises, the sleeping stone trolls will wake again to follow him?” Dom asked and snorted. “It's a fairy tale we told our children. There's a difference between fairy tales and legends.”

“Is there really?” Lady Darklis asked.

“They basically start out from the same core,” Matthew said. Gareth turned to see the seraph standing behind him. “But they move into different directions from there. Fairy tales are for entertainment and morals, legends are to record and pass on events.”

“So basically, you say, atop of all, we now also have to deal with some kind of new god rising?” Dom grunted. “Splendid. We haven't even got rid of the current one.”

“It's just a fairy tale,” Lady Darklis shrugged. “Maybe my reports are wrong.”

“Most likely.”

Lady Darklis hummed and refreshed the ink on her needle again before continuing in silence. Soon, the line of runes on Dom's arm had reached his shoulder. “I've never covered someone in so many old runes,” she muttered while setting more lines into Dom's skin. “You're like a walking spellbook.” She dipped the needle into the inkpot again and chuckled. “Anyone else would accidentally blow themselves up when incanting a minor spell. I hope you don't plan to kill Belial or Michael by simply blowing up the Earth.”

“That would be cheating and rather boring,” Matthew said. He walked along the shelves with Lady Darklis' inkpots and picked another pot of black ink. He held it against the light and swirled it, humming softly.

“Matthew, leave my ink!” Lady Darklis snapped.

Matthew stopped humming and spread his wings to glare at Lady Darklis' outstretched hand.

“Please,” she added without much conviction.

Huffing, Matthew took a few steps towards her and put the inkpot into her hand. “Don't forget to ink our fledgling as well.”

“I'm not sure…” Gareth started.

“Yes, you are,” Matthew stated without turning to face Gareth.

“Don't be afraid,” Lady Darklis chuckled. “I'd never give you anything but defensive charms. Anything melee would be too dangerous on the skin of a rookie.”

Gareth nodded and watched her finish the last rune at the crook of Dom's neck. She straightened and rolled her shoulders before removing the needle from the pistol. She looked at the remaining ink and sighed. “You know how I hate to destroy my precious ink.“

“I'll get you a new pot,” Dom said and rose from the chair. He looked at Gareth and motioned to the chair with his right arm. “Your turn.”

Hesitantly, Gareth stood and took the few steps towards the armchair. He looked around at Lady Darklis who was busy fixing a new needle into the pistol. “Don't be afraid, I do take care of hygiene.”

“That's not quite what I'm worried about,” Gareth answered. “I never thought I'd be getting a tattoo.”

“Life's a funny thing, ain't it?” Matthew purred into Gareth's ear and grabbed his shoulders. The seraph turned Gareth around and pushed him into the armchair. Chuckling, he reached out and pulled Gareth's shirt from his trousers.

“What are you doing?” Gareth asked and batted Matthew's hands away. He tried to wiggle free, but Matthew had crawled onto Gareth's lap and was hindering any escape attempts. Giggling, Matthew let go of Gareth's shirt and grabbed his hair, pulling Gareth's face towards his own.

“Stop making out and tend to Dominic's arms,” Lady Darklis grumbled. “We don't have much time before the daylight declines again.” Matthew turned his head and growled at her, but let go of Gareth nevertheless. He picked up a jar of honey with leaves swimming in the sticky mass and walked into the middle of the room. He sat down and looked up at Dom, waiting.

Sighing, Dom picked up a roll of linen and sat down in front of Matthew. “Try to be not too careless, will you?”

Huffing, Matthew reached out and grabbed Dom's arm to yank the Viking closer.

“Those boys,” Lady Darklis sighed. She turned to Gareth, grinning widely. “So, a tattoo virgin. Just remove your shirt and relax.”

Gareth nodded and grabbed the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. He put it over the armrest and reclined, looking back at Lady Darklis. She chuckled and shifted her chair closer. “I'll be doing your chest, so it will only prick a bit, no real pain.”

Gareth nodded again while Lady Darklis shifted even closer and peered at his chest. She sighed and shook her head. “Would you be so kind and turn the armchair a bit? The light's not good enough like this.“

“Sure,” Gareth mumbled and grabbed the armrests, yanking the armchair around until Lady Darklis voiced her satisfaction with the light. She adjusted her own chair and reached for the tattoo pistol. “Relax,” she muttered while the soft hissing of the pistol started.

 

About an hour later, they were ready to leave, Lady Darklis walking them to the door and complaining about the ink bottles she had lost due to Matthew being _helpful_. “I can't believe he actually burnt both ink pots,” she grumbled. She turned her head to glare at Matthew, who was just emptying a bottle of mead he had found somewhere. “Only one contained the ink blood mixture.”

“What? Did _I_ moan about losing the cap and now having the ink dry up?” Matthew snapped. He lifted the bottle and peered into it, growling at finding it empty. He pushed it into Lady Darklis' hand before turning into a raven and sitting down on Gareth's shoulder.

Gareth stared at the sea as they walked down the road in silence. The crashing of the waves was even louder than when they had come up this way. At least it seemed so to Gareth. He glanced sideways at Matthew, seeing Dom walking next to them out of the corners of his eyes.

The Viking looked far too cheerful considering he was about to unleash the Apocalypse, Gareth thought. But then, a Viking would likely consider epic battles between angels and demons as good fun. But which role had they meant for him in this end time scenario?

Gareth directed his attention back to the raging sea. Maybe he shouldn't wonder which role Dom and Matthew thought he should play, but which role he actually wanted to play. They weren't his babysitters and nor would any of them tell him what to do.

He sighed and stopped in his tracks. “Let me help you,” he said, still looking at the waves.

Matthew croaked something and shortly after, Dom appeared next to his side. “Are you sure?” he asked. “This is fucking dangerous. Heaven and Hell will be after you for revenge.”

Gareth shrugged. “I know. But I'll be dragged into this no matter what, I already am in the middle. Might as well pick my side now that I still have some kind of choice.”

“You might just have picked the hardest side, though,” Dom pointed out, grinning widely. “It's about time we started on defence lessons for you.” He turned away and walked on. Gareth remained staring at the sea until he heard an impatient croak. Glancing at Matthew for a moment, Gareth turned away from the sea and hurried after Dom.

 

Detective inspector Adkison sat at his table and read the reports of his subordinates. He should have done so last Friday already, but a shooting in the suburbs had kept him from any paperwork. He looked up and at the window, frowning when he saw a raven with familiar red markings sitting on the window sill.

Sighing, he rose to let Matthew in. “What do you want?”

Matthew croaked and stretched his neck and wings. Adkison watched in the fascination how the bird grew, his feathers turning into wings that unwrapped themselves from Matthew's body. Eventually, the seraph stood before Adkison, rolling his shoulders.

“Donar wants a word with you,” Matthew announced.

“And why does he send you instead of turning up himself?”

“He's just walking up the stairs,” Matthew retorted.

Sighing, Adkison sat down again and pushed the files before him together and shoved them aside. “What does he want to talk about? Another murder to cover up?”

Matthew glowered at him and sat down in the chair in front of Adkison's desk. He shifted against the backrest, complaining about the chair being uncomfortable. “We don't need the police's help to cover up killings, as you should be aware. Besides, it would defy the point of covering up if you went to the police, wouldn't it?”

“You will be held accountable for one of your murders one day,” Adkison snarled.

Matthew yawned and shifted in the chair, putting his left foot onto the seat. “Seriously, how can you endure sitting in these chairs for longer than one minute?” He looked back at Adkison and shook his head. “I don't know why Donar even bothers with you.”

Adkison frowned at the seraph. He was about to ask what he meant by that, but a sudden commotion in front of his office stopped him.

“You can't just waltz in how you like,” detective sergeant Okaranza's voice was heard.

“Watch me,” Howard's voice retorted just before the door to Adkison's office was opened.

“What do you want?” Adkison asked. There was no point in a greeting, he figured.

“Just a little talk and a few words of warning,” Howard answered and closed the door behind himself and detective sergeant Okaranza.

Her eyes fell on the seraph and she paused in her tracks. “Matthew?”

Adkison frowned. Considering she had met that wretched seraph just once, her demeanour towards him was less startled than he would have expected from her. Especially the ease with which she ignored his wings, halo and nethers was somewhat surprising. Someone who only met the seraph for the second time would still be quite impressed by the appearance.

He made a mental note to confront her about this later. Adkison knew his detective sergeant well enough by now to suspect her seeking out the Viking and the seraph even after his orders not to.

“Warning?” he repeated Howard's words. “What kind of warning? What have you done that you need to warn me about?”

“Nothing yet,” Howard answered. He sighed and lifted his hands, twisting the ring on his right ring finger.

“What are you going to do?” detective sergeant Okaranza asked.

“Something that will break the fragile treaty between Heaven and Hell,” Howard answered. “I can't say yet what his going to happen, but this city is going to be the first to be hit.”

Adkison frowned, while thinking about Howard's words. “You're talking about the Apocalypse, aren't you?”

“Yes,” Matthew drawled.

“And you think you can unleash that and cause millions of people to die?” Adkison snarled. “I don't know if you're megalomaniac or just delusional, let alone ruthless.”

Howard shrugged and sat down on the second chair next to the seraph. “It will happen, sooner or later,” he retorted. “What difference does the point in time make?”

“All the difference to those living at that particular point in time,” Adkison said. He fell back against the backrest of his chair and stared at the two men in front of him. “But you don't care about that, do you?”

“Why should we?” Matthew drawled. He shifted in the chair until he could lean over the table. “Tiny humans that think they're the crown of any creation or evolution. It's time you learned your place again.”

“Have you ever felt sorry for dragging other people into this world of demons and angels?” detective sergeant Okaranza asked.

Howard turned to look at her and shrugged. “Hardly,” he answered. “And it's not dragging people into another world. It's showing them what the world really is like.”

“People die, Dominic.”

“People always die in war.”

“Do you even care for the people close to you?” detective sergeant Okaranza asked. Her voice seemed to be a pitch higher than usual. “Do you ever think about Gareth and wonder if he will actually make it?”

Howard shifted on his chair and Adkison noticed how the fingers of his right hand flexed. His left hand found it's way back to the ring on his right ring finger, twisting it. “I gave him a choice,” Howard said. “He decided against the coward's choice.” He looked out of the window, still playing with ring. “Still, he continues to surprise me.

“Either way,” Howard continued and rose from the chair. “This town won't survive tomorrow night. Whatever happens, you've been warned.” He stopped at the door and turned back, his left arm raised to chest height. “Come on, Matthew.”

With a croak, the raven landed on Howard's arm and they left, the click of the door falling shut easily audible in the silent room.

Sighing, detective sergeant Okaranza turned and made to leave the room as well, but was stopped by her superior. 

“Detective Sergeant? I want a word with you.”

Detective sergeant Okaranza turned back and swallowed.

“I can't help but notice you seem well acquainted with Howard's little gang,” Adkison stated.

“Yes, sir.”

Adkison waited for a moment for further explanations, but nothing came forth. He sighed. “I won't ask further, but what do you make of this?”

“I don't know,” sergeant detective Okaranza answered. She looked out of the window and frowned. “But they're not ones to joke about angels and demons. Something will happen, and it won't be pretty.”

Adkison rose from his seat and walked over to the window, watching Howard and that wretched raven leaving the building and turning to the right.

“Do you think they could actually start the end of the world?”

“Wouldn't put it past them. I've seen them fight. It's like they're still in a different time. They lived through so many wars, they don't mind another.”

 

Gareth looked up from his soup when he heard the door open and close. He heard footsteps, rustling of leather and keys being dropped over the soft sound of rustling feathers, the sound of naked feet padding towards the kitchen announcing Matthew even before he opened the door.

“You're not at work?” he asked after slumping down on the table next to Gareth.

“I took the day off,” Gareth answered. “Wanted to see my parents today.”

“Understandably,” Dom said and sat down on the chair opposite Gareth. “We need you tomorrow night. If you still want to bail out, you can do so until tomorrow afternoon.”

“You made clear that bailing out would be no option at any given time a few months ago. And where could I run to if you are about to bring heaven and hell onto this planet?”

“Just checking you're not getting cold feet,” Dom answered and grinned. He sighed and the grin was gone again. “Please, try not to tell your parents what we're planning. I understand that you want to warn them, but keep it vague. The less is known about our plan, the less can be prepared against it.”

Gareth nodded and looked down into his soup. He had bought a tin of lentil stew, because it had always been one of his favourite dishes. Still, no one could ever create a lentil stew as good as his mother could.

He looked up again and noticed Dom playing with the ring on his finger. “I never saw you with a ring before.”

Dom looked up and flexed his hand. “I only wear it once a year.” He lifted his hand to show the ring. “It's a gimmel ring. Two intertwined rings that are worn as one.”

Gareth leant over the table and squinted at the two rings that were held together by two hands. “It looks intricate. Does it mean something?”

“Yes,” Dom retorted and moved his hand beneath the table. He looked out of the window for a moment before rising and leaving the room.

Gareth looked up at Matthew, who just shrugged. “You won't get further answers.” He jumped off the table and bent down to purr into Gareth's ear. “Wait here. I'll be back in a second.”

“What?” Gareth blinked and watched the seraph disappear through the door and return only a short moment later.

Matthew climbed back onto his spot on the table and thrust his fist forward. Gareth recoiled at the sudden gesture. He stared at Matthew's face for a moment until another jerk of Matthew's fist directed his attention to something dangling from it.

It was a necklace that Gareth hadn't seen in months. Three pendants hanging on a stripe of leather; a man, a dog and a bird.

“I thought you had destroyed it,” Gareth said.

“I kept it. Even though I hate it, I can't deny that it's handy.” Matthew shrugged. He reached out and grabbed Gareth's hand and let it fall into the palm.

“Why are you giving it to me?”

“Donar has synced it to me although he doesn't really need it to contact me,“ Matthew explained.

“But why are you giving it to me?”

“I made some alterations to it, too,” Matthew continued.

“Yes, but why are you giving it to me?”

“Don't ask stupid questions,” Matthew snapped. He took the necklace and fastened it around Gareth's neck. “Fucking take it! And don't ever take it off, understood?”

Gareth chuckled and nodded. He stood and brushed his lips against the seraph's. “Thank you, Matthew.”

 

“Gareth, my dear! It's a long time since you've visited your old parents.”

Gareth smiled and accepted the hug his mother bestowed upon him. “I just felt like seeing you again.”

“But don't you need to work?”

“I took the day off.”

“Just to see your parents? That doesn't sound like you at all!”

Gareth shrugged and followed his mother inside. “Even I need a break sometimes. Get a clear head, you know?”

“You're not having a mid-life crisis, are you?”

Gareth laughed and shook his head. He walked to the living room to greet his father. The old man sat at the table, zipping through TV channels and cursing at the bad program.

“Why do you even switch on the TV if you know it's only broadcasting nonsense?”

“Gareth!” his father exclaimed and dropped the remote control to hug his son. “What a nice surprise to see you in these walls. One could think you've moved to another country and not to the other end of the city.”

“I'm sorry, Dad,” Gareth mumbled. “Life's been busy.”

“I saw Carl the other day,” his mother said while she ushered Gareth to sit down on the sofa. “He said you're so elusive now. You've got no time for your friends.”

Gareth sighed and looked down at his hands. He really hadn't seen his friends outside of work in quite some time. At first he had been too enthralled by Viking and seraph, following them as much as possible and soon he had felt like being part of a team. And he couldn't just leave his team behind in this everlasting fight, could he?

But maybe he should have made more of an effort to combine both worlds. He'd never manage to see his friends before tomorrow night.

“So, what brings you to your parents?” his mother asked as she put two cups of tea down in front of her husband and Gareth.

Gareth shrugged. “Can't a son pay his parents a visit just because he wants to see them?”

“You've not visited us in two months,” his father stated. “Ever since you've moved out you seem intent on burning all bridges behind you.”

Gareth looked down into his tea, giving the cup a twist and watched the milk slowly blending with the tea. “I'm not burning bridges. It's just… I've been introduced to what seems to be a whole new world and it's exiting and scaring in equal terms.” He looked up at his father and offered a smile. “You're just getting sucked into this and then you're part of it.”

“I hope you're not going down the criminal route,” his father stated.

“What?” Gareth shook his head. “No, no. It's more about saving people from… stuff.” He shrugged. “You wouldn't believe me when I told you more.”

“So the next time someone asks how you are and I can't answer because you've not been in contact for weeks, I'll just say: He's busy rescuing the world?”

“I'm sorry.”

His mother sighed and patted Gareth's shoulder. “Whatever are we going to do with you? Do you still believe in angels?”

Gareth looked down and bit his lips. His parents hadn't teased him for insisting he'd seen an angel in years. “I don't believe in them,” I mumbled. “I know they exist. Those are two different things. They're so different to what I always believed they would be, though.”

He looked up at his mother, wondering if he should try to explain further or just change the topic. But something on the news caught his attention. He turned his head to see a dark beach, rough waves licking over it and breaking against the cliffs.

An old withered man was talking into the camera in a language that Gareth wasn't familiar with. He could make out a word akin to 'troll' even without the interpreter talking over the audio track of the old man.

“The Reynisdrangar are gone,” the interpreter just said. While the camera showed an empty see. “Only yesterday there used to be a formation of basalt sea stacks said to be two trolls dragging a ship to the land when the sun rose and turned them into stone. Now these basalt stacks are gone along with many remarkable formations all over the country.”

Gareth stared at the TV screen, showing various landscapes and talking about how earthquakes had stricken all over Iceland at night, rocks and stones raining from mountains into valleys and villages.

“The trolls are waking from their stone slumber,” he whispered. “Lady Darklis was right…”

 

Gareth lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. He felt like the worse son a man and a woman had ever given birth to. In the end, he hadn't told them to run, because what could he have told them to make them believe him? And which place could he possibly tell them as safe?

Telling them that he loved them didn't ease the guilt he felt at all. He should have visited them more before it was too late.

He sighed and turned onto his side, facing the wall. Lying alone in his bed didn't serve to ease his mind either. He closed his eyes, cursing at his thoughts, which were constantly returning to this afternoon or straying to the following night. He wouldn't fall asleep tonight. Especially not if he was to sleep on his own.

The faint sound of rustling feathers was heard and Gareth turned around just as Matthew crawled beneath the blanket.

Gareth sighed and shifted closer, pressing his face against Matthew's chest. They lay silent while Mathew's fingers traced the leather band of Gareth's necklace. Gareth opened his eyes again and looked up.

Matthew was looking at him, the halo casting soft red light over his face.

“Matthew?” Gareth asked. “Can I kiss you?”

“Of course,” Matthew drawled. A smirk spread over his face and he dipped his head while Gareth stretched upwards. He pressed his lips against Matthew's.

The seraph's lips where soft and he immediately deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into Gareth's mouth. Gareth pulled his head away and pressed his finger against Matthew's lips. “You're moving too fast.”

“There is no...” Matthew objected, but his complaint was halted by Gareth's lips.

Gareth pressed short pecks against Matthew's lips, chin and along his neck. Mathew's skin lacked the usual salty quality Gareth expected to taste on skin. Instead, the skin reminded Gareth of honey. He reached up and let his fingers slide over Matthew's cheeks, tracing the bones and feeling the soft skin.

Matthew moaned softly and rolled onto his back, his legs wrapping around Gareth's waist. He tangled his hands in Gareth's hair and pulled Gareth's head up to press their lips together again.

“You're getting me aroused,” Matthew purred. “I hope you know what this means.”

“I do,” Gareth answered. He craned his neck and flicked his tongue against Matthew's earlobe. “You can have me tonight, Matthew, but we're doing it slowly.”

“Slowly,” Matthew repeated and lifted an eyebrow, the eyes in his inner wings staring straight at Gareth.

“Of course,” Gareth whispered into Matthew's ear. “Have you never taken the time to just enjoy the other's touch?” He glanced up to see a familiar, petulant pout gracing the angel's lips. Gareth chuckled. “I see,” he purred and pushed Matthew's legs down to slip out of bed again.

He quickly discarded his t-shirt and boxers and slipped back into bed. “Can I explore you for a while?”

Matthew turned his head at Gareth, wearing his pout for a few more seconds. Eventually, he nodded and relaxed into the mattress, the eyes in his wings closed.

“Thank you,” Gareth murmured and pressed a quick kiss against the side of Matthew's throat. He made his way downwards, alternating between kissing and licking the soft skin. His fingers stroked over Matthew's sides. Once Gareth had reached Matthew's armpits, he moved his hands to brush over Matthew's chest. He took a moment to run his fingertips over Matthew's nipples, smiling at the soft moan the action enticed.

Gareth glanced at the wings. Matthew's halo cast a red hue over them that made the feathers appear softer than usual. Gareth wondered if he was allowed to touch them. He stroked his hands towards Matthew's sides again and moved lower, closer to the wings. He felt Matthew tense and moved his hands away from the wings' vicinity again.

Gareth dipped his head to suck Matthew's right nipple, smirking when he felt the seraph arch up. “You like this, don't you?” Gareth asked while trailing his right hand further down, circling around Matthew's navel. “Being worshipped like this?”

Without waiting for a reaction, Gareth moved his hand further down to trail a finger over Matthew's erection. Growling, Matthew reached up and pushed Gareth around. He straddled Gareth and bent down to growl against Gareth's lips. “Enough teasing!”

Matthew pressed their lips together and pushed his tongue into Gareth's mouth, stroking his tongue over Gareth's palate. “I have to have you now,” Matthew drawled once he broke for air.

Gareth swallowed and nodded, avoiding the many eyes that were looking down at him.

Matthew grinned. “Good.” He bent down again to whisper into Gareth's ear, “Iʻll be gentle.”

Gareth rolled his head to the side and glanced at Matthew. “Can you actually be gentle?”

Growling, Matthew grabbed Gareth's hair and forced his head back, a red hue creeping into the eyes staring down at Gareth. “If you want it rough, just say the word,” Matthew hissed against Gareth's lips.

“No,” Gareth whispered and shook his head, staring up at the eyes in Matthew's wings. They glared back at him for a moment, before blinking once. The red shade was gone from them when they opened again and Gareth turned his head to look at Matthew.

The seraph smirked. “I thought so,” he purred and pressed their lips together again. “Do you have any lube?”

Swallowing, Gareth shook his head.

“We'll have to make do with spit in this case,” Matthew purred. He lifted his hand and pushed two fingers into his mouth.

Gareth watched the fingers move in and out of Matthew's mouth in a steady rhythm, cheeks hollowing and slurping noises being heard.

“You're vulgar,” Gareth rasped.

Matthew just winked and pulled his fingers from his mouth with a wet plop. “I haven't even started yet.”


	16. Fragments — One Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened after Chapter 14 finished?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I was scared into writing this. _Scared_ I tell you. :P

“You're vulgar,” Gareth rasped.

Matthew just winked and pulled his fingers from his mouth with a wet plop. “I haven't even started yet." He reached down and stroked his index finger lightly over Gareth's erection.

Gareth moaned and rolled his hips up, his hands moving to slide over Matthew's shoulders.

Matthew chuckled and leant down to brush his lips over Gareth's ears, purring softly. His finger moved down Gareth's erection, tracing the path of a vein before the finger came to rest against Gareth's opening.

"You're lucky," Matthew drawled into his ear. "Usually, I don't spend time on preparing the other half of the coupling."

He chuckled and bit down on Gareth's earlobe, just as the index finger pushed its way inside.

Gareth emitted a strangled sound that even he couldn't place, somewhere between pain and arousal. He arched up beneath the seraph and whimpered.

"Relax, little fledgling," Matthew purred. He moved his finger, pulling it out before pushing in again, farther than before. "Breathe."

Gareth nodded and forced air into his lungs, concentrating on the hand that was brushing over his chest, a palm rubbing over nipples; the feeling of soft skin beneath Gareth's own fingers.

"That's it, little one," Matthew drawled. He pulled his finger almost out again before pressing index and middle finger into Gareth.

Gareth groaned, the feeling of intrusion still foreign and not yet fully welcome. He wondered if Matthew would stop if he asked the seraph to. But then Matthew angled his fingers and brushed against a spot that didn't made the pain disappear, but that wrapped a coat of pleasure over the pain.

Gareth arched up and moaned loudly, eyes squeezed shut and a smug chuckle in his ears. "I told you, you'd enjoy sex with me. And we haven't even started yet."

Gareth opened his eyes again and found his vision occupied by black feathers and blue eyes. He shifted, moaning again.

The eyes in Matthew's wings moved, flicking over Gareth's exposed skin, taking in the man from head to toe. Gareth felt his body heat up, the stare as embarrassing as it was arousing.

Matthew chuckled again. "It seems you enjoy being on display for me."

Gareth felt the blush deepening and glanced to the side.

"Look at me," Matthew ordered. "If you're having sex with me you're giving me your full attention."

Swallowing to moisten his dry throat, Gareth turned his head back to look up at Matthew and was rewarded with a smile.

"Good boy," Matthew whispered and pulled his fingers free to press three back inside.

Gareth hissed. The pain had subsided mostly, pleasure laying over it. He now concentrated on the fingers in him, finding that sweet special spot each time with precision, but only ever teasingly brushing against. It was a hint of the pleasure that could be drawn, designed to make him pine for more.

"You like this, don't you?" Matthew teased, his free hand brushing a few strays of hair from Gareth's face. "You want more, don't you?"

Gareth nodded, his hips gyrating to meet the movements of Matthew's fingers.  
"You know what to do," Matthew growled.

Gareth whimpered and wiggled beneath the seraph. "Please," he whined.

"Please, what?" Matthew asked, his voice dripping with misplaced innocence. "Ask and your requests shall be granted."

"Please," Gareth rasped. "Please, I need more. I want you in me, Matthew."

Matthew laughed lightly and shifted. He removed his fingers from Gareth, using both of his hands to prop himself up. His hands were resting left and right Gareth's head, lips just a fraction away from Gareth's.

"Kiss me," Matthew ordered, his voice unusually soft.

Gareth craned his neck and pressed his lips against Matthew's, his hands sliding along Matthew's arms.

While kissing, their tongues intertwined in a vulgar dance, Matthew shifted again, pushing slowly into Gareth.

Gareth arched his back, breaking the kiss to press his head into the pillows and howled. The pain was back again, mixing with the pleasure until Gareth couldn't keep them apart anymore. He felt soft lips being dragged over his chin, fingertips tracing his sides and chest on their way to his erection.

Matthew wrapped his hand around Gareth's hard-on, matching the strokes with his thrusts.

Gareth tightened his hands on Matthew's arms, no longer stroking, but clinging tightly as the seraph found that special spot with each thrust. He moaned loudly, his eyes closed and just feeling the rhythmic movements.

A hand was fisted in Gareth's hair and his head was pulled back. A voice hissed into his ear, "Look at me. I told you to keep your attention on me."

Gareth whimpered and opened his eyes again. He stared back at Matthew, dark eyes locking with his own, the halo casting a faint red glow over Matthew's face.

The seraph continued moving in a slow rhythm, head thrown back and eyes closed while his wings moved to shield Gareth from the world. The eyes in Matthew's wings were looking down at Gareth, their irises almost swallowed by the pupils.

Matthew moaned, the sound so much deeper than his usual talking voice.

Gareth moaned in answer, his hands leaving Matthew's arms to slide onto his back, soft feathers brushing over Gareth's skin.

Gareth half pulled himself up, half pulled Matthew down, craving more contact of skin against skin. Another moan left his lips when he felt their chests sliding against each other, Matthew's skin the softest that Gareth had ever felt.

They moved together, their hips speeding up, while Matthew still stroked Gareth's erection, spreading the pre-come. His other hand was still in Gareth's hair and he pulled Gareth's head up, clashing their lips together a harsh kiss.

"Come," Matthew growled. "Let go and come with me."

Gareth shuddered and moaned loudly, coming over Matthew's hand just a brief moment before he felt Matthew coming in him.

They continued moving, riding out the orgasm before slowing down and finally stilling.

Gareth let go of Matthew, only now realising that he was actually touching the seraph's wings. He carefully moved his arms and let them flop onto the mattress, hoping Matthew wouldn't react to his wings being touched.

But the seraph just pulled out and rolled onto his back, sighing softly with a smirk playing on his lips.

They lay in silence for a while, Gareth musing about the empty feeling Matthew had left behind together with the weird feeling of come seeping out of his arse.

There was something else nagging on his mind, though. The fear that had kept Gareth clinging to his mantra for months. What would Matthew do now, that he had reached his goal to have Gareth?

"Tell me I haven't made a mistake by letting you use me," Gareth whispered.

"Do you think this lowly of me?" Matthew asked, his voice devoid of any emotion.  
Gareth looked sideways at the seraph, who was staring at the ceiling. He shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Then why should tonight have been a mistake?" Matthew retorted and turned his head look at Gareth.

"You're so different from what you want to make everyone believe," Gareth stated. He rolled onto his side and put an arm over Matthew's chest, his head resting on Matthew's shoulder.


	17. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Peek into the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it's safe to say, this will be the last flash back of Celestial Charts.
> 
> And after having both Again the Night and Against the Night already, we'll fill the trio with Lullaby. As the first two, it's a song by Jason Webley from the album Against the Night. The song has the same theme/melody, but it's without lyrics and in the style of a music box.
> 
> As always beta'd by my darling Anita.

“Do you really want to go through with this?”

Dominik closed the door behind him and turned around to face Matthew. He shrugged and reached out for the Döbereiner's lighter that he kept on a small table next to the entry door. He lit up the oil lamp that resided on the small table and put the lighter down before taking the oil lamp and walking into the bedroom of his small house.

“Yes, I really want to go through with this,” he answered.

Matthew sat down on the bed and crossed his arms. “Apart from the fact that she has no clue who you are and what she gets herself into, have you even spared a thought about _me_?”

Dominik put the oil lamp on the night stand and shrugged out of his frock coat. “What about you?” He threw the frock coat over the back rest of the chair he kept next to the bed.

“You might have managed keeping me away from her so far,” Matthew sneered, “but do you think you can keep me out of the way of your _wife_?”

“You will leave her alone!”

“And how do you want to go about that?” Matthew laughed. He rose from the bed and spread his wings to glare at Dominik. “I'm a major part of your life. You made sure I would be, so don't you dare dump me for your little slapper.”

“How dare you call Melinda a slapper?” Dominik growled.

“I will call her whatever I want,” Matthew hissed and stepped closer to Dominik. “Slapper. Tart. Play thing.”

“Shut your filthy mouth, you putrid bastard!” Dominik roared and drew his hand back to slap the seraph in front of him. The sound of a hand hitting skin hard sounded through the room and Matthew stumbled backwards. He held his cheek with one hand and glared at Dominik.

“Watch yourself, mammal,” he hissed.

“Or what?” Dominik snarled. “Do you want to burn me?” He snorted and turned away from Matthew, starting to shrug out of his white shirt. “It's not my fault you're unable to feel anything but hatred and envy.” He tossed the shirt onto the chair and turned back to Matthew. The seraph was staring at him, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together in a thin line.

“You're nothing but a bitter, hateful spirit,” Dominik sneered. “And because you can't have love, you begrudge it everyone else.”

“Shut your mouth!” Matthew roared and dashed forwards. He grabbed Dominik's throat and brought his wings forward, their feathers' touch burning where they met skin.

Dominik hissed and grabbed Matthew's hair with his left hand. He yanked the seraph's head back and pressed his right hand against Matthew's face. “I won't shut up,” Dominik snarled. “You're pathetic and the sooner you realise that, the better.”

Screaming, Matthew shook his hands around Dominik's throat before pushing him away, but with Dominik's hands still in his hair and face, he was forced to stumble after the human.

Dominik tried to break the fall, but with Matthew losing his balance as well, he fell, hitting the floor. He yelped and changed his grip from Matthew's hair to his shoulder and lifted his leg. Dominik managed to manoeuvre his knee between Matthew's legs and pushed it upwards.

Hissing, Matthew let go of Dominik and jumped up, rubbing his groin. Using this brief moment, Dominik rolled onto his side. He kicked against Matthew's shins in the process, bringing the seraph down to the floor again.

Matthew landed on all fours next to Dominik. He turned his head and snarled, bringing two pairs of his wings forward towards Dominik. They brushed against Dominik's side and arm, flames licking from the wings over Dominik's skin.

Screaming, Dominik rolled over the floor until the fire was extinguished. He lay on his back, panting and trying to ignore the pain in his side. It would take days for the burn marks to disappear. He turned his head to Matthew, who was crouched down next to him.

Upon noticing the human's eyes on him, Matthew growled and crawled over Dominik's body. He reached down and yanked on Dominik's trousers.

“Matthew, no,” Dominik growled.

Matthew looked up and reached out to fist one of his hands in Dominik's hair. He pulled Dominik's head up before pushing it harshly against the floor. “Shut up!”

Dominik hissed and screwed his eyes shut for a moment. He lifted his unburnt hand and pushed it against Matthew's face in an attempt to break free, but the seraph used his free hand to bat Dominik's hand away.

“You will never talk to me like this again!” Matthew hissed. He reached down again with his free hand and pushed Dominik's trousers further down until he could use his feet to kick them away. Without waiting another moment, he pushed one of Dominik's legs up and forced himself inside Dominik.

“Fucking hell, Matthew!” Dominik screamed. He clawed at Matthew, nails scratching over white, unblemished skin and leaving red lines.

Matthew pulled Dominik's head up to bang it against the floor again, causing bright lights to dance in front of Dominik's eyes for a moment. “Shut up!” he shouted against Dominik's face, each shout accentuated with another bang of head against floor. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

Dominik pressed his eyes shut and turned his face sideways, staring at the feet of his bed, while Matthew's hips picked up a fast rhythm. He bit his lips, not willing to grant Matthew the sound of his whimpers.

“Look at me,” Matthew hissed. “I want your eyes on me and me only.”

“No,” Dominik ground out, keeping his face away from Matthew and his eyes shut.

Growling, Matthew pulled out almost completely to slam in again while banging Dominik's head against the floor again. “Look. At. Me,” he snarled.

Dominik bit his lips and shook his head, still refusing to open his eyes. Matthew pulled his head up, lips brushing against Dominik's ear. “You want this,” Matthew purred. “You want _me_.”

“No,” Dominik hissed.

Matthew emitted an inarticulate shout before he pressed his lips against Dominik's, he pushed his tongue into Dominik's mouth, catching the hands trying to push his head away. Matthew pushed Dominik's wrists to the floor, rolling his hips and pushing deeper into Dominik.

Dominik moaned, his tongue moving against Matthew's. Chuckling, the seraph broke the kiss and smirked down at Dominik. “Now you're looking at me.”

“Shut up and get on with it,” Dominik snapped. He pushed his hips upwards, moaning when Matthew thrust in again. He reached up and grabbed Matthew's wings, ignoring the pang of pain in his burnt hand.

Matthew growled, but didn't bat Dominik's hands away, instead he reached for Dominik's erection, stroking in time with his thrusts. They moved together until the rhythm of Matthew's strokes and hips grew sloppy. It only took him a few more thrusts, hitting something deep in Dominik and he was coming, Dominik following close after.

Matthew pulled out, ignoring Dominik's pained hissed and rolled onto his back, lying next to Dominik.

“You can't keep me secret from her all your life,” he spoke after a while.

Dominik sighed, looking at the ceiling. “I know.” Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Matthew turning his head, but he still remained watching the wooden ceiling.

“I will always demand your attention,” Matthew said.

Dominik rolled his head to the side to look at Matthew. “I know.” He rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling.

They remained silent for a while, both human and seraph staring at the ceiling. Eventually, Matthew broke the silence.

“This is a bad idea, and you know it.”

“I can't help it,” Dominik answered. “I love her.”

Matthew huffed. Rustling of feathers and the creak of a floorboard was heard as he rose to his feet. He looked down at Dominik. “Your selfishness will kill her.”

Dominik frowned. “I can protect her. I won't lose another loved one.”

“Do what you want, but don't come to me and cry afterwards,” Matthew sneered. He ruffled his wings and wrapped them around his body, shrinking into his raven form before flying out of the room.

 

Dominik knocked on the door to the Howard mansion, smiling when one of the slaves opened it. “I am here to see Miss Howard.”

The woman nodded and opened the door, bidding Dominik to wait in the large entrance hall while she hurried upstairs. A few minutes later, a woman in a vast, green hoop skirt adorned with dark green patterns and ruffles descended the stairs. The vast sleeves were tied to puffs, the end of each sleeve panning out to reveal white frills. A fitting green bonnet ornamented with a golden flower and more frills was tied over walnut-coloured locks.

Dominik smiled at the descending woman and held out his right hand. “Melinda, my dearest,” he greeted her. “I hope you’ve had a fine day so far?”

Melinda smiled and put her right hand in Dominik's. Dominik bent down and kissed it, before straightening to smile at Melinda. She smiled back. “It was just an ordinary day of chores and organising the slaves. Mother wants me to take over the task of managing this household.” She laughed. “Seeing as I'll have to be able to lead my own household soon.”

Dominik nodded and grinned, offering Melinda his right arm. She hooked her arm in and walked beside him. “I have to admit, I am quite excited already.” He opened the door and let her out before closing the door after him, offering his arm again. “I never was married before.”

“Well, I do hope so, Mr Rabensteyn,” Melinda retorted lightly. “I'm not one to give my virtue to anyone.” She looked towards the stables and sighed at the approaching coach. “I rather would be riding on my own horse than sitting and waiting to arrive.”

Dominik laughed and leant closer for a quick peck on her cheek. “No my dear, it wouldn't befit a lady of your status going out in the city in order to prepare her wedding.”

Melinda huffed and crossed her arms until the coach arrived. Dominik quickly helped her inside and tied his horse to the coach before following Melinda into the coach, sitting down next to her. “At least it's not a closed coach,” he whispered into her ear and moved his arm through the air, indicating the sky. “We can still see the trees and birds around us.”

He let his hand fall down again, wincing when the movement reminded him of the burn marks from previous night. Melinda turned to him and frowned.

“What is wrong, Dominik?” she asked.

Dominik grimaced. Of course she would notice the tiniest lapse. “Nothing bad, my dear,” he answered. “Just a little mishap while cooking yesternight which led to burn injuries on my arm.”

“Oh Dominik,” Melinda sighed. “You're such a klutz. One should never leave you close to open fire or any housework. I do hope you have been to the doctor and shown him your wounds.”

“Of course, I saw Dr Tierney first thing this morning.” Dominik lied. “He gave me ointments and told me to stay away from open fires.”

Melinda nodded and sighed again. “I'm glad we'll be married soon and you no longer will have to sustain yourself like this. Father never understood why you don't hold at least one slave.”

“I'm afraid I'm too secretive to allow someone else to live with me.”

“And yet you want to marry me,” Melinda pointed out.

“And yet I want to marry you,” Dominik answered, smiling. “I love you.”

Melinda smiled and looked down at the purse in her hands, a faint blush tainting her cheeks. When she was looking up again, though, that playful smile Dominik had fallen for was playing on her lips again. “I hope you don't keep secrets from me, Mr Rabensteyn.”

Dominik sighed and looked up at the tree branches that were passing as they approached Vicksburg. He should tell her…

“Dominik?”

Dominik looked at Melinda again and offered a smile. “Actually, there is something I need to tell you,” he admitted. “There's someone you should meet.”

Melinda blinked at him and then narrowed her eyes. “You scoundrel! Are you telling me you already fathered someone? Is there an illegitimate, misbegotten child?”

“What? No, nothing of this sort!” Dominik retorted. He stared at Melinda, lost for a moment. “It's… different. Complicated.” He gesticulated weakly, wincing when the movement once again irritated the burn marks on his arm. “You will understand when I tell you. When you meet him.”

She stared at him for a moment and eventually nodded, the creases in her forehead only slightly softened. “When will you tell me? Please, understand, if it's something I better know, I'd like to know before our wedding.”

Dominik nodded. “Of course, I understand.” He sighed and looked at the first houses of Vicksburg that they were passing. “Will you do me the honour and visit my place this afternoon? I know it is unusual and improper to see a man on your own in his house, but I can't tell you if someone is around.”

Melinda sighed and watched Dominik's face. Eventually she nodded, a short jerk of her head. “I will trust you, Dominik.”

“Thank you, Melinda,” Dominik answered. He dipped his head and stood, leaning forward to tap the slave's shoulder. “Could you take us to another address?”

“Of course, Sir.”

 

Dominik helped Melinda out of the coach and pointed at the door to his house. “It's smaller than what you grew up in,” he stated.

Melinda smiled and shrugged. “It's a decent roof you've got over your head.”

“It's a lot more comfortable than the abode I grew up in,” Dominik replied while unlocking his door. “I just hope he's in,” he sighed.

“So, there is a man you need me to meet, but he's not your illegitimate son,” Melinda stated.

Dominik nodded. “You will understand,” he simply answered and pushed the door open. He walked in and stepped aside, motioning with one arm into the house. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he announce with a quick bow.

Melinda laughed and curtseyed. “Most amiable you are, Mr Rabensteyn.”

Dominik smiled and dipped his head, closing the door after Melinda. He led them into the kitchen and peeked into the room. As expected, a raven sat on the table, two black eye glaring at the intruders. He croaked and ruffled his wings, scratching one leg over the wooden table top.

“A raven?” Melinda asked.

Matthew turned from Dominik to Melinda, settling for simply staring at her.

“Matthew, change.”

Matthew croaked and ruffled his wings. He croaked again, the sound carrying an angry harmonic. Eventually, he spread his wings and allowed them to grow, while two more pairs grew from his back. Only then did he stretch himself, growing and revealing pale skin as the feathers became part of the wings.

He sat crouched on the table, all his eyes trained on the couple in the doorway.

“What?” Melinda whispered.

"He's fallen," Dominik explained.

Melinda slowly turned her head towards him, still watching Matthew out of the corner of her eyes. "Why is there a fallen angel in your kitchen, Dominik?"

Dominik sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He walked over to a chair and pulled it back, turning it to offer Melinda a seat.

She frowned and stepped forward, pushing the hoops in her skirt forwards before sitting down. She looked up at Matthew, who was still staring at her, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Dominik pulled another chair close to sit opposite Melinda. "My name is not Dominik Rabensteyn," he admitted.

Melinda frowned. "Who are you? Who is he?"

"My name is Donar Wælhrafnson. I was born in 775 A.D. in Norway." Dominik looked up at Matthew. "Matthew is a seraph. He's been banned from heaven to atone for his sin. In order to do so, he's been soul-bound to me."

“You want to tell me that you're about thousand years old?”

Dominik nodded.

“You are a different man than you made me believe,” Melinda whispered.

“I'm not,” Dominik answered. “Not different, just,” he gesticulated weakly, “more. I couldn't reveal everything to you when we met.”

“Then why are you revealing yourself now? Why risk our wedding?”

“We've spent the past decades hunting demons and angels, exorcising them from humans. Heaven and hell are after our blood. I can't put you into this position without you knowing what you're getting into. It is dangerous.” Dominik sighed and looked down at his hands. “And I don't want to lie to you.”

“Dangerous?” Melinda repeated. “If what you told me is true, being engaged to you is enough to be in danger.” She sighed. “Do you believe in God?”

Dominik sighed and shook his head. He ignored Matthew's derisive snort as he answered, “I don't believe in the Christian God. I know He is exists. He has created Matthew and a lot of the creatures I fight against, but I don't believe in Him.”

“We can't get married. I can't marry a heathen, in a church nonetheless,” Melinda answered. She look up at Matthew and was met with a plethora of blue eyes staring at her. She shuddered and looked back at Dominik. “I love Dominik Rabensteyn, I don't know if I can love Donar Wælhrafnson enough to risk my immortal soul.”

“I can keep your immortal soul safe.”

Melinda shook her head and stood. “Give me time, Domi… Donar.”

Dominik nodded and stood as well.

“Come to my house the day before our wedding. I shall know my answer by then.”

Dominik dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Allow me to accompany you home, Melinda.”

She shook her head. “No, please understand, I need to be alone right now. I have a lot to think about.” She nodded curtly at Matthew and turned to the door. Dominik and Matthew listened to her footsteps until the house door had fallen shut.

“Well, that turned out extraordinarily well.”

“Shut up,” Dominic growled.

 

Donar dismounted his horse and walked up the stairs to the Howard mansion. He frowned. Something was off, but he couldn't place a finger on it yet.

He looked up into the tree, finding a single raven sitting there. Matthew croaked and spread his wings. He landed on Donar's shoulder, croaking again.

"It's too calm," Donar muttered. "No sound to be heard."

He reached out and knocked. He waited. But no-one came to open the door. Matthew croaked, shifting on Donar's shoulder. Donar nodded. "I guess you're right," he whispered. "Fetch my axe while I go around the house."

Matthew croaked his complaint, but disappeared nevertheless.

Donar ran a hand through his hair and descended the stairs. He then turned left and made his way over the lawn, peering into each window he passed and finding every room empty. Eventually, he stood in front of the patio door. The glass was cracked and splintered.

Carefully, Donar pushed against the door. It swung open with only the slightest creak. He stepped into the house and paused, listening. Nothing.

Donar crept quickly through the room until he stood in the entrance hall. Before the door, he found the slave that usually opened the doors lying in her own blood. Her head lay a few metres from her body, eyes staring at Donar, wide and unseeing, while her mouth remained open in a silent scream.

Donar shook his head. “No, please no.” He turned his head to look up the staircase. He stumbled back again when he saw Melinda's parents lying on the stairs, their bowels strewn over the steps. Blood was scattered over the walls and floor.

“Melinda,” he whispered and rushed upstairs, not paying any more attention to the corpses.

He stopped when he reached the second floor, taking a moment to listen for sounds, allowing hope into his thoughts.

“This way,” Matthew whispered and pointed at a door at the end of the corridor.

Donar glanced at the seraph that just had appeared next to him and took the skeggöx from Matthew's hand. He nodded and crept closer, only now noticing sounds coming from the room Matthew had pointed out. Soft whimpering and moaning was heard, the voice sickeningly familiar.

Without thinking, Donar kicked the door open and ran into the room. He found Melinda on the floor, leaning against the bed. He dress was ripped, revealing a wound that started from her neck and led down to her belly button.

“Dominik…” she whispered and made to lift a hand. She let it fall to the ground again, though.

“Melinda,” Donar shouted and rushed to her, falling to his knees next to her. He let his skeggöx fall to the floor and grabbed her hand. “No, don't leave me, please.”

“William,” she coughed.

“You brother? Has he caused this bloodbath?”

Melinda nodded and cough, spitting blood over herself. Donar reached out to brush her lips and chin clean before turning to Matthew. “Save her.”

Matthew shook his head. “I can't.”

“I TOLD YOU TO SAVE HER!”

“Donar, I'll never be able to heal again!” Matthew replied. He shifted from one foot to the other and ran his left hand over his right arm. “I'm banned from heaven.”

“I'm so scared. I don't want to be in hell,” Melinda whispered.

“You can go anywhere you believe in,” Donar said. He still held her hand tightly, his other hand stroking over her cheek. “Believe in a place of eternal feasts and joy, songs being sung over roasts and sweet mead waiting to be drunken.”

“Your pagan heaven?”

“I'd choose that over anything Christian,” Matthew stated.

Melinda looked up at him before letting her head fall to the side to look back at Donar.

“We'll meet again,” he said.

She weakly shook her head, the motion barely more than a jerk to the side. Her hand twitched in Donar's. “Take my part of the ring,” she rasped before coughing. “Please… wear it on our wedding day.”

“Melinda.”

“Would have loved… wear the full ring, but can't anymore. Wear… for me… please.”

Donar nodded. He carefully pulled the ring from her finger before pulling his own ring off. He fit them together so the two hands were interlocked. He put the ring back onto his finger and lifted his hand, showing it to Melinda.

“I love you,” Donar said and bent forward, pressing his lips against Melinda's.

“Love you… whichever name… go by…”

Donar rested his head against Melinda's forehead, staying like this even after he felt her going limb. He felt Matthew's presence next to him, but the seraph kept silent. Donar didn't know how long he sat like this, when he heard laughter from the door.

He looked up to see a man with brunet locks standing in the doorway, a machete in his hand. Blood dripped from the blade, landing on the floor and shoes.

“William,” Donar growled.

William laughed. “Oh Donar, little Donar. Did you like my wedding present?” He glanced sideways and sneered at Matthew. “Even the little birdy, my what an assembly. Are you the best man… well, best angel? Where's the cake?”

Donar screamed and grabbed his skeggöx, jumping upwards and hitting his axe against William's chest. As soon as the blade of the axe had buried itself in William's chest, Donar pulled it back again and hit it against the head, splitting the skull with one blow. The blood shooting from the wounds hit Donar, painting his face and clothes crimson.

William staggered back, white fog coming from his mouth just as Donar delivered the third blow that cut open William's throat. Blood gushed out of the gaping wound and tinted the white fog.

“Burn it!” Donar roared.

Two balls of pure heat rushed past Donar, his hair sizzling from it. They hit the demon just as it was taking form. Shrill screams were heard as flames erupted from the smoke. They immediately took over William's dead body, licking over the walls and spreading onto the walls.

“Get out,” Matthew hissed and grabbed Donar's arm.

“Leave me,” Donar objected. He turned and made to walk to Melinda's body, but Matthew yanked him away. He pulled Donar through the corridor and pushed the struggling Viking down the stairs, flying after him.

Downstairs, Matthew grabbed Donar's ankle and dragged him out while the flames took over the staircase and entrance hall. Donar screamed and clawed at the floor, but Matthew didn't stop until they were outside, dragging Donar down the stone staircase and down the road that led away from the Howard mansion.

He only stopped when they were half-way into town. He let go of Donar's ankle and grabbed his collar, pulling him up to his feet. Donar turned and watched the smoke and flames that were still visible from this distant.

“Go on, say it,” he eventually muttered.

“I told you so,” Matthew retorted, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I just wanted a few years of happiness before vanishing from her life again. Was that too much to ask for?”

Matthew sighed. “Did you honestly believe our lives can hold such a thing as happiness?”

Donar lifted his hand to wipe the tears from his eyes. He looked at the gimmel ring that shone between the blood on his fingers. “For a moment, yes. Yes, I had honestly believed I could find happiness.”


	18. Viðrar Vel Til Loftárása

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens in a backyard doesn’t stay in a backyard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s get the _fun_ part of the story started. ;)
> 
> The title of of this chapter is nicked from the Sigur Rós song of the same name. Apparently it means: Good Weather for an Airstrike. According to wikipedia it comes from a quote by an Icelandic weatherman during Kosovo war.

Gareth stood next to Dom in the back garden, wrapped in a cloak and a mask they had borrowed from Lady Darklis and a heavy hammer in his hands. He had to admit, he felt somewhat silly, but the cloak had been woven by Odin for the hero Hreiðmárr whose saga had been long forgotten by history. Apparently, it had served Lady Darklis well throughout her life, hiding her from prying eyes and vengeful entities whenever Dom’s and Matthew’s protection wasn’t available.

The mask covered Gareth’s whole head and was made of the skin and fur of bears, wolves and wildcats. Unfitted teeth poked out from an elongated snout and three pairs of ears covered the side of it. It smelled of old leather and far too many herbal mixtures and Gareth could only just refrain from pulling it off his head.

He turned his head to watch Dom drawing lines and circles around them with a sword, chanting lowly. The Viking was only wearing a black leather skirt that reached down to his ankles, revealing simple boots that were held together by leather straps. The runes inked into Dom’s skin were glowing in a faint red, pulsing with the rhythm of Dom’s chants.

Gareth swallowed and shifted, flexing his fingers around the shaft of the hammer that Dom had given him. He glanced at Matthew, who sat in the grass next to him.

„Isn’t there another way to turn me invisible to angels and demons than this make-up?“

Matthew looked up at Gareth and chuckled. „Sure, but for our needs this is not only the best, but also easiest way. The cloak and the mask only make you truly invisible to one specific entity,“ Matthew explained and pointed at the feather that hung on a necklace over the closed cloak. „We only needed one of his feathers and you’re completely invisible to him until you remove a piece of your disguise. Everyone else will only see you as a blur or flicker unless they concentrate on you.“

„The mask stinks,“ Gareth grunted, causing Matthew to laugh again. „And I can hardly see through those small eye holes.“

Sighing, Gareth crouched down and rested the hammer on the ground. He looked up into the sky, watching the biggest cloud turn from a turtle into a dragon as it passed. Dom’s voice remained a low hum in the background for a while until the chanting suddenly stopped. Gareth looked up at Dom and stood. „What now?“

Dom nodded at Matthew and reached for the knife he had attached to his belt. He plucked it off its strap and held it out to Matthew. „Your turn.“

Matthew grimaced, but wordlessly stood and accepted the knife. He took a step towards the first line that Dom had carved into the grass and earth. Matthew held out his arm and lifted the hand with the knife. „Time to meet your end, Belial,“ he growled and quickly sliced the silver blade through his skin.

Gareth winced when he saw the knife cutting through Matthew’s skin. Blood trickled from the pale arm and fell in small drops into the grass. The line that Dom had drawn started to glow in a faint red.

„He’s here,“ Dom whispered. „We’re in Michael’s dimension.“

„How do you know?“

„You’ll learn how to notice the slight shift in the textures around you after a while.“

Gareth nodded and looked around, trying to find the archangel or a white dove. He heard the soft rustle of feathers from behind and turned around. The archangel stood behind them, his two wings spread and casting a soft light.

Gareth shifted closer to Dom and reached up to hold his cloak together even more. He wondered if it could keep him safe should Michael decide to burn him again. The archangel looked at him and crinkled his forehead. „What are you supposed to represent, human fool?“

„None of your business, Michael,“ Dom growled.

Michael turned his head and spread his wings, sneering. He said nothing, though. Instead, he looked at Matthew. The seraph had turned to face Michael, his wounded hand hanging down and blood dripping into the grass.

„Seraph Matthew!“ Michael shouted. „It is a sin to draw an angel’s blood even from one as low and putrid as you.“ He looked at the lines in the ground that Dom had carved, the red glow growing along it with every drop from Matthew’s arm. „And it doesn’t matter if you’re spilling the blood as a means to trap an archdemon.“

Matthew smirked and lifted his arm to jerk it down again in a quick movement that sprayed more of his blood into the grass. „Oh, you know, I did not only spill my blood as a means to kill an archdemon. Should I tell you what’s even a bigger sin?“

„What?“ Michael snapped. He stretched his arm into the air. The light from his wings licked over his arm until it focussed on his outstretched hand. The light grew into a line, stretching towards the sky and the ground simultaneously. „Which atrocious sin have you, abominable creature, committed now?“

Matthew sighed and cast his eyes down, even his wings sacking in a show of mock penitence. „Forgive me, Michael, for I have been a malicious sinner. I cut myself and spilled my blood to lure an archdemon to me when in truth it was all a ruse and a trap for an archangel.“ He looked up again, grinning. „Forgive me, Michael, for I will kill you now.“

Michael stood still for a moment; his face didn’t show any reaction before it contorted into a grimace of rage. His eyes seemed to burn, the light that filled them twitching like flames into the air. His pair of wings glowed in a blinding white as if it was made of pure light instead of bones and feathers.

The staff of light in Michael’s hands broadened to a hand’s width beneath the tip. It formed an axe-like blade on one side, a smaller blade, almost like a spike, on the other side.

„You upgraded to a halberd,“ Matthew drawled and lifted his arms. He raised the hand with the knife to carve two runes into his skin. „Didn’t you consider halberds to be a peasant’s weapon and below you?“

„It might be a lowly weapon,“ Michael growled, „but it is highly effective. You don’t deserve the lance or sword anymore, vermin.“

Matthew just smiled and raised his voice into a song that rang most beautifully through the air, „Gandre Thurisaz Kenaz.“

„Don’t you dare fight me with heathen magic,“ Michael screamed and pushed himself forward, the halberd thrust in front of him. Matthew just laughed and moved his arm before his face in a crescent motion. Blood flowed out of his wound and remained mid-air, glowing red.

He lifted his hand again and nudged the arch of blood with his finger. The glowing liquid spread and moved towards Michael. It crashed against the archangel as if it was a solid wall. The halberd of light however managed to pierce through it, glowing red where it was covered in Matthew's blood.

„Collapse," Matthew purred and the wall crashed down on Michael, covering him completely. „Red suits you, Michael,“ Matthew sung. „Your hands are just as covered in blood as mine, after all. It's time you carried your true character for all to see, too.“

„Don't you dare put me on the same level as yourself,“ Michael shouted and thrust himself forward again.

Matthew dodged the slash aimed at his head and reached out to grab the shaft of the halberd. He hissed, a sizzle of smoke wafting upwards from his hands. Gareth swallowed and pushed his fist into his mouth. „I'd never stoop that low,“ Matthew hissed.

„Superbia," Michael sneered. „Even thinking you could hold a holy weapon without burning.“

A blur moved past Gareth and he turned his head to watch Dom dashing forward, his axe gripped tight in his hands. He moved it upwards when he had reached Michael and gashed it into the blood-soaked wing.

Michael screamed and Gareth took his fist from his mouth to press both his hands against his ears. As beautiful as angels sounded while singing and even talking, as horrible their voices sounded contorted in pain. Gareth fought the urge to press his eyes closed, too. But he played a part in this grisly scene so he didn't feel he deserved the bliss of missing the horror of the slaughter happening.

Matthew had let go off Michael's halberd as soon as Dom's skeggöx had hit home. He let his arms hang down, blood still running from his arm and dripping from his fingers into the grass. He spread his wings, eyes closed for the moment. „I'll finish you off without my hands.“

Michael shouted and flapped his wings, dragging Dom with him in the process. His screams grew in volume as he moved the wing, causing the axe to carve itself even further into the limb. The glow he emitted increased, but it was diminished by Matthew’s blood covering him. There was only an occasional flicker of light that broke through the red hue.

„Don't even bother,“ Dom growled and yanked his axe back and out of Michael's wing. The archangel screamed again and turned around to hit his halberd at Dom.

„You puny, putrid heathen,“ he screeched, „I will kill you. I will kill you all!“ He pointed his halberd at Gareth who stumbled backwards. „You are not safe either! My judgment will befall you as well, heathen!“

„Iria,“ Matthew drawled. „I always had you down for Superbia, actually. What with you being such an obnoxious show off.“

Michael screamed again and made to swing his halberd towards Matthew when Dom's axe met his other wing. Michael screamed in agony and stumbled forward.

„Did you honestly think you'd ever stood a chance against _me_?“ Matthew hissed while Dom pressed his foot against the backs of Michael's knees. The archangel fell forward, his wings hanging down at awkward angles, covered in blood that kept gushing from the winds at the base of the wings.

„I hate you,“ Matthew shouted and kicked against Michael’s cheek. The archangel fell backwards and tried to crawl away from Matthew. „I hate you for what you did to me,“ Matthew snarled and bent down to grab Michael's hair and pulled him up. „For what you did to my best friend.“ He pulled Michael's head further back before pushing it down again and letting go. „And I hate you for what you did to her,“ her roared.

Gareth frowned. He couldn't recall Matthew ever mentioning a woman or best friends or anyone meaning anything to him. He glanced at Dom, but the Viking didn't show any expression of surprise or wonder. Dom just stood with his skeggöx in his hand and watched the scene.

„It was you who defamed her, wasn't it?“ Matthew screamed and resumed kicking Michael. „Telling Him lies about us.“

„I only did what was expected of me,“ Michael screamed. „What is expected of any true angel! I obey His orders.“

„Blind obedience is no fucking excuse to destroy innocent lives!“ Matthew roared. He bent down again and grabbed Michael's wings to yank the struggling archangel around. Straightening again, he glowered down at Michael. „Look at me!“ he shouted. „Look at me and tell me what you felt when He burned her!“

Michael sat back on his haunches and slowly raised his head to look at Matthew. „Sinners have to be punished,“ he sneered. „Amora got what she deserved. Angels shall look at Him and Him only and not at each other!“

„Don't you dare take her name into your foul mouth,“ Matthew howled and opened the eyes in his wings. „None of you putrid, filthy angels have the right to ever speak her name with your disgusting mouths.“

„So this is it? Your motive for toppling all worlds and realms into a destructive war is one measly harlot?“

Matthew howled, the sound piercing through Gareth's ears and bones. He closed the eyes in his wings for a brief moment. When he opened them again, all bar the blind eye were glowing in a deep red. The glow spread from the eyes over the wings and seeped from the premiers into the ground. The grass caught fire that quickly licked towards Michael.

Michael screamed and tried to crawl backwards, but Dom had rushed forward and hit Michael's head with his axe. The archangel fell forwards and into the fire, screaming and thrashing as the flames caught his hair and spread over from there over his shoulders and onto his wings.

Michael pushed himself up again and tore at his hair, burning his hands in the process. He fell to the ground again and rolled in the grass, but the flames couldn’t be extinguished.

Gareth watched the scene before him with his hand pressed against his nose. He felt nauseous and he didn't know if it was because of the stench of burning hair, feathers and flesh or because of the man that writhed in agony before him. What had become of him, he wondered.

He was standing by as an archangel slowly burnt to death. He had done nothing to prevent this from happening either, even though he fully knew that a war between heaven and hell would be unleashed by their actions. He looked at the hammer by his feet that had been dropped some time during the fight. He himself would play a role in bringing that war onto his loved ones, friends and family.

Gareth looked up at Michael again. The wings were burnt to stumps with no feathers left, the hair was gone and with it the skin had been burnt away, revealing bone that was black with burnt blood. Still, Michael was alive whimpering and crawling towards Matthew. He lifted a shaking hand and made to reach for Matthew's foot, but the seraph pulled it away. Michael's hand landed in a patch of burnt grass.

„Do you repent for your sins?“ Matthew snarled.

Michael whimpered and lifted his head towards Matthew, shaking with the effort. Matthew shrugged. „I don't care,“ he continued. „That God we're supposed to _love_ is not forgiving either. _You_ are not forgiving. I just demonstrate the same respect to you that you show to everyone else.“

Matthew kneeled down and brought his wings forward. He stroked them over Michael's back and flames spread once again until Michael's screams subsided and only a heap of ashes remained.

Gareth sank to the ground and stared at the ashes before him. He drew a deep breath, coughing at the stench of burnt flesh and feathers as he looked higher at Matthew. The seraph was breathing heavily, his shoulders lifting and sinking with each heave, as he stared down at Michael's remnants.

„Amora?“ Gareth asked. He stood and looked at Dom. The Viking shook his head.

„Never mention her unless he does so of his own accord,“ Dom replied.

Gareth nodded and gripped the hammer tighter. He looked at Matthew who flapped his wings once and looked around. „Michael's dimension is crumbling apart,“ he stated. He pointed into the sky. Dark clouds assembled above them, blocking out the sunlight and evoking the impression of early dusk. „Soon the revenge commando will be upon us.“

„This is the worst time possible to start second guessing my choices, isn’t it?“ Gareth mumbled. He reached up with his free hand to scratch the place where his tattoo was. It had started itching.

„It certainly is,“ Dom answered. „You reached the point of no return a few months ago really.“ He rolled his shoulders and walked towards Matthew. „Stay in the background and only strike when you're ready to blow your cover.“

Gareth nodded and looked around. The trees in the garden bent and twisted as if they were subjected to a storm. Still, the garden remained eerily silent until giggling was heard. Gareth turned towards the source of the sound and saw Belial leaning against a tree.

„You did that on purpose, didn’t you?" he asked and pushed himself off the tree to saunter over to Matthew and Dom. „Trying to trap me as a bait to lure Michael to you. So you finally decided on which side you are.“

„Oh, we always knew which side we're on,“ Matthew drawled.

„Well, you allowed yourself to be courted for quite some time,“ Belial replied. He walked around the group and Gareth held his breath. Any minute now, Belial would notice him, he was sure. But still, Belial only took notice of Matthew and Dom. He almost walked into Gareth, oblivious to the human hurriedly jumping out of his way.

„Don't mistake our actions,“ Dom stated. „Nothing has changed in our rejection towards anything Christian.“

Belial faltered in his steps and frowned. He took a step back. „Your plan was to get rid of the two of us," he growled. He laughed. "You played the two of us.“

„Aren't you a smart one?“ Matthew replied and grinned. The eyes in his wings took on a red hue again.

Belial took another step backwards and shook his head, still laughing. „Well-played, my respect. Of course it always had to be you to bring the apocalypse over us.“

He evaded one of Matthew's fireballs, but was too slow to avoid the second and third fireballs that Matthew sent his way. Belial's tunic and his left wing caught fire and he fell to the ground rolling over the grass in an attempt to extinguish the flames.

Belial came to a pause in front of Gareth's feet, on his back and whimpering but not burning anymore. Shaking, Gareth raised the hammer with both hands. But before he could make up his mind for good, Dom had thrown his axe and hit Belial's arm. The archdemon screamed in pain and rolled onto his knees.

It was now. If he didn’t act now, he’d stand by forever. Screaming, Gareth lifted his hammer higher before letting it come down, managing to hit Belial’s shoulder. The archdemon screamed and turned to look at Gareth, his eyes wide in bewilderment. Gareth lifted one hand to tear the mask off his face and revealed himself to Belial.

„You?“ Belial rasped.

„Yes, me,“ Gareth growled and let the mask fall to grip the hammer’s handle with both hands again and let it fall down on Belial’s head. Hammer and skull connected with a crack and Gareth let go of the handle. He could still hear the archdemon rattle as he stumbled back, the back of his hand pressed against his mouth. Gareth turned his back on the twitching form on the ground just as Matthew set fire to it with his foot.

Belial wailed in agony and the stench of burnt flesh and feathers that still lingered increased. Gareth sank onto his knees and retched, spitting the remnants of his lunch and bile into the grass. „I killed him,“ he wheezed. „Because... He was an asshole basically. I killed him in cold blood.“

„That was not in cold blood, little fledgling,“ Matthew said. „I’ve seen murders in cold blood, and you couldn’t possible commit one of those. Also, technically, you only maimed him. It was me who killed him.“

„I'm lost for any salvation now…“ Gareth muttered.

„By all your morals we're murderers now, yes,“ Dom stated. He reached down and grabbed Gareth’s arm to pull him into a standing position.

„Are there any morals by which we aren't murderers now?“ Gareth asked. He looked at Dom who had bent down to pick up the hammer.

„Sure,“ Dom answered and pressed the hammer into Gareth’s hands. He looked into the sky and frowned before continuing. „Quite a few. Revenge is a valid reason. Also, this was merely a pre-emptive strike if you think of Hell and Heaven as in a constant war. Both are lacking important leaders now, which can only be of advantage to those stuck in the middle.“

Gareth tightened his hand around the hammer and looked up into the sky. The clouds had darkened even more, turning the earlier twilight into night. Gareth sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. „We just caused the final battle, didn’t we?“

„It would seem so,“ Matthew replied. He picked up the mask Gareth had discarded and pushed it into Gareth's free hand. „Take it and get into the house.“

„This is the end, I doubt a house could save me.“

„It should be able to catch the first onslaught with all those magic circles and spells we've put up over the years,“ Dom replied.

„What about you, though?“ Gareth asked. He looked at the dark sky again. Growling came from the clouds. It could have been thunder, but still, the sound evoked images of a great beast raising its hackles and getting ready to pounce.

The tattoo on Gareth’s chest itched even more now. He wanted to scratch it, but his hands were full, so he just shifted and rolled his shoulder back, the action not helping at all to sooth the itch.

„I guess we'll just face head on whatever they throw at us,“ Matthew stated and grinned. He spread his wings, all red eyes on show. „It’s not as if we could hide anywhere anymore.“

Gareth swallowed and nodded. „Be careful,“ he shouted and turned to run into the house. He turned back once and looked back just as lightening stroke into the middle of the garden. The sound of thunder had grown, filling the air all around them, a cacophony in that shrill screams and the piercing sounds of sirens mingled.

Gareth closed his eyes and lifted the hand with the mask to shield his eyes from the lightening. He stumbled back and fell into the house. The ground shook and Gareth opened his eyes in time to face a wall of water that rushed forward. Houses and trees crumbled and broke, swept away in the flood, the debris carried by the water only serving to cause even more havoc where it hit.

"Fuck," Gareth whispered. He quickly pulled the mask over his head again and gripped the hammer tighter just as the water hit their house. It creaked as it was filled with water and managed to withstand the force for a few seconds.

Then it collapsed.


	19. Ich bringe Euch Feuer, Den Zorn der Götter auf die Welt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we follow a Carpenter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it starts, the end of this little gem I’ve been working on for a few years. I think it’s been years, hasn’t it? I lose track of time when it comes to my fics far too easy.
> 
> And I’m afraid it’s not as dramatic as I thought it would turn out, but there’s only so much you can do without losing sight of the story.
> 
> This chapter’s title is taken from the Saltatio Mortis song Prometheus. It means „I’ll bring you fire, the wrath of gods upon the world“.

„What do you hope to find here? It's all ruins.“

„I like to be thorough. And besides, there should be some items around we can use.“

„Agreed. It's Howard's house, we should find some weapons to use in this war.“

Voices. Cold. Pain. Blink. Beams and stones. Masonry.

What had happened?

Water. Flooding.

Gareth opened his eyes and turned his head. His bones were in pain. As was his flesh. His sinews and muscles were in pain, his everything. He _was_ pain.

„Oi! Brennan! Has the sleeping beauty awoken?“

„Be gentle, he's only human. He needs time to cope with what happened.“

Gareth turned his head towards the direction of the new voices. They came from a pile of stones and wood. Groaning, Gareth sat up and reached up to pull that wretched mask from his head. There was enough stench surrounding him, he didn’t need to add the mask’s odour to it.

„Gloria? Ays?“ He asked and crawled towards the debris. Once there, he shoved the litter away to get through to the heads. „What happened?“

„Apocalypse,“ someone from behind him answered.

Gareth turned to see two men and a woman stand behind him. Gareth recognised Fleck, the exorcist that had turned up at their doorstep a few months ago, his coat as white as if he hadn‘t just climbed through the remnants of a house, mud and broken trees. Most likely Fleck’s companions were exorcists, too.

„Aren't you that bloody seraph's latest play thing?“ Fleck asked in lieu of a greeting.

„What are you doing here?“ Gareth growled. He lifted Gloria‘s and Ays‘ heads and attached them to his belt, one on each side. He looked at the mask in his hand and stuffed it into his belt. Ugly as it might be, it still could come in handy.

The woman behind him laughed. „And you think you could use those heads? Deluded fool.“

„How could you survive anyway?“ the second man asked. „Everyone else in this region has drowned or has been killed by the collapsing buildings. You‘ve been in the middle of it and yet you‘re still completely unhurt.“

„He‘s under protection,“ Ays giggled.

Gareth frowned. „What do you mean?“

Ays giggled, showing off his two rows of yellow teeth. „Think. Think. Think. Here's a tip: You reek of angel.“

Gareth's frown deepened. „I don't know what you mean. Am I dead?“ He raised his hands and looked at them. „Can't be. I wouldn't be smelling of angel if I was…“

Ays chuckled, the sound having a somewhat dirty quality. „No, you wouldn't. Not anymore.“

„I will refrain from passing judgement on you and them,“ Gloria made herself heard. „But he gave you something didn't you?“

Gareth nodded. „The necklace. It's synched to him. That's why he gave it to me.“

„What are you talking about?“ Fleck hissed.

Gareth looked up and shrugged. He gripped the hammer tighter and clambered out of the ruins of his home. He stood on a pile of beams, broken furniture and a collapsed wall, looking over the remnants of the city.

Water pooled between collapsed buildings, trees were fallen and cars buried beneath the clutter. „We've got to move,“ he said and climbed down again. He looked around for anything useful, but there was nothing that he'd know how to use. „This is the most unsafe place on Earth right now.“

„You haven't answered my question,“ Fleck snapped as he climbed through the ruins of the house, scanning them for items and weapons. „Who's protecting you?“

Gareth sighed and stopped on the roof of a halfway intact car. He looked over his shoulder at the three exorcists. He had to admit, he was somewhat surprised that they kept following him instead of staying behind to raid the house. „Guess who could be powerful enough to save my life without even being present.“

Fleck stopped on a stone, wobbling for a moment before he took another step forward onto a slightly bigger and more stable piece of clutter. „He wouldn’t."

„He did,“ Gareth retorted and turned back towards the city. They would need some kind of cover, secure enough to shield them from prying eyes and wind and weather, but open enough to flee if new catastrophes or enemies appeared. He also had to find Okaranza and check on his parents.

There was also Lady Darklis who Gareth fully counted on having survived this. But she was far outside the city and it'd take even longer to reach her. Furthermore, she lived next to the cliffs. Getting to her place would be the most difficult. If she had survived, she had done so just fine and would be able to fend off anything for a little longer, Gareth figured.

She also had Okaranza's number together with Gareth's request to look out for the young officer if possible. Had she contacted Okaranza and were they together, though? Gareth made to reach into his pocket, but only hit the cloak with his hand. He sighed. His phone wouldn't even have survived this flood.

If Lady Darklis hadn't contacted Okaranza, the officer would be at the police station at this time of day. His parents would be home. But where to go first? All of them could still be alive or dead, in need of help or dealing fine enough. Okaranza was of potentially more use to surviving this nightmare and maybe some more officers had survived. Even Atkins would be of help now.

Gareth sighed. The police station would be the most sensible option right now. Also, Donar and Matthew hadn't been seen around. Gareth doubted that they were dead if he had survived, but where the hell were they?

„Who are you talking about?“ the female exorcist asked.

„Do you know who used to live here?“ Gareth asked. He set in motion. He sighed and looked sideways at his new companions. „Who are you anyway? I've seen Fleck before, but who are you two?“

„Artemis Karafoulidou,“ the woman answered. „Exorcist in fifth generation.“

The other exorcist narrowed his eyes at Karafoulidou. „Elias Lacor,“ he growled. „Exorcist in second generation.“

„Oh, great, we've got rival dynasties of exorcists now,“ Gareth muttered while Ays laughed. Gareth looked down to see Gloria's reaction to their situation. To his surprise, she seemed to be amused at the indignity that Gareth’s dig at their petty pedigree pride had caused. The angel was biting her lips, but couldn't refrain from twitching her lips into a smile.

„You're one to mock our ancestry, Mr Angel Plaything,“ Fleck growled.

Gareth just smiled at him. „So why are you following me? I'm not even an exorcist in first generation.“

„Who says we're following you?“

„I'm sorry for assuming based on the fact that you indeed follow my every step instead of going your own ways.“

Gareth climbed over a pile of clutter and spotted an arm poking or from it. He jumped into the muddy puddle next to that pile and reached for the arm, feeling for the pulse. He couldn't find it and looked down at Gloria.

„She's dead,“ the angel answered. „The only living human souls in a radius of about a five hundred metres are you and your companions.“

„Human, you say,“ Gareth repeated. He straightened and looked around at the ruins and eventually into the sky. It had cleared now, showing an almost friendly azure hue. „What else do you notice closer by?“

„Raphael and Pythius,“ Gloria replied. „They're just lurking and observing for now.“

„They're trying to figure out what exactly happened,“ Gareth muttered.

„Raphael,“ Fleck repeated. „That's good. He'll help us through this city.“

Gareth turned to look at him. „Do you really think he'll care for humans in his way? He's got other priorities right now.“ He looked around. Were they still in their own dimension or had Raphael wrapped his own dimension around them?

Gareth tried to figure out if there had been some kind of shift, but with the city in ruins, he couldn't even establish his own reality.

„So you're a specialist now?“ Lacor growled. „Oh, great knowledgeable; oh, greatest of all exorcists, teach us about the ways of the angels.“

„I'm no exorcist and I'll never be,“ Gareth retorted. „That's not even what's needed now.“

„Earth is overrun by demons and you say we don't need exorcists?“

„By demons and angels themselves, yes. We don't need someone who can draw spirits out of people, we need someone who can kill those things. This is war; we need warriors.“

„Now you sound like Howard,“ Karafoulidou stated.

„Do I have any other options?“ Gareth snapped. He motioned to the ruins around them. „My existence has been swept away, literally, angels and demons are soon to come fighting on this planet, and I can't even take the time to stop and mourn the friends and family I've just lost. Because if I pause for one moment, I'll break down. I have to soldier on and fight, or I won't survive, no matter if I've got Matthew's protection or not. So excuse me if I take after Donar instead of you exorcists.“

„Well spoken,“ Ays chuckled. „I can see why Matthew wouldn't want you to die.“

„Why are you and Gloria awake actually?“

„With all those angels and demons around shooting magic and spells all over town?“ Ays retorted. „It'd be hard to stay asleep even if I wanted to.“

„Talking of those, where are Howard and Matthew?“ Lacor asked.

Gareth shrugged. „I don't know. They'll turn up again.“ They had to. There was no way the Viking and his seraph would remain missing.

Movement to his right caught Gareth's attention. He plugged the hammer from his belt and turned left. A small man stood on the remnants of a house, showing two rows of yellow, pointed teeth beneath black lips and pale skin. Three black horns grew out of his head, tufts of white hair surrounding the bases of them.

„So, it's you?“ he asked. „You measly little exorcists forced our hands?“

„What do you mean?“ Karafoulidou asked. „No-one forced any of your hands. You filthy vermin invaded us!“

The demon laughed. „How sweet. You're clearly exorcists and yet you don't know what's going on.“ He raised his arm, his laughter sounding even shriller. His nails grew into spears and he looked back at the group. „I'm sure someone among your group can tell you what brought this war on. I can smell blood.“

The demon cackled and dashed forward, his arms raised to point the elongated nails towards the humans. The exorcists yelped and scattered apart while Gareth remained on the spot and raised his hammer.

„Move, fool,“ Ays screamed. „His claws are made of poison.“

Gareth swallowed, but ignored the demon head. He concentrated on the advancing demon, stepping aside late enough for the attacker to not follow him immediately. Gareth swung the hammer around, but caught his foot beneath a beam and stumbled, crashing forward.

The demon laughed and turned back. He took a step towards Gareth and grinned down. „It was you, right? I can smell my general's blood on you.“

Gareth growled and pushed himself onto his feet. He glanced behind himself for a split second, to scan the ground behind him. Letting himself fall back to avoid the next blow seemed like a good idea.

He was about to let himself fall back, when he heard the noise of an explosion and the demon before him stumbled sideways. Screaming, Gareth lifted his hammer and gashed it into the demon’s head, pulling it back again right away to hit the demon two more times.

He noticed black blood running from the demon’s side and paused for a moment. It looked like a bullet hole. Frowning, Gareth looked up and into the direction where he had perceived the explosion from.

„Lady Darklis! Okaranza!“ he shouted and looked down again in time to avoid another attack. He hauled off and let the hammer connect with the demon’s chin. The demon stumbled backwards from the force of the hit. His foot got stuck in the same beam that had caused Gareth’s fall and fell onto his back.

Before Gareth was over him again, Lady Darklis had forced a sword into the demon’s throat. The runes that were carved into the blade were shining in a bright red.

„You killed a demon,“ Flex stated. He walked up to the crumbling corpse and pushed his foot against it.

„Yes, and no thanks to you,“ Gareth growled. He walked over to Lady Darklis and Okaranza, dropping his hammer to hug his two friends. „You’re alive,“ he whispered.

„What did he mean?“ Karafoulidou asked. „His general’s blood is on your hands?“

„No time for idle chatting,“ Lady Darklis stated. She pushed her sword into the sheath attached to her belt and grabbed Gareth’s hand to drag him further down the street. „Whatever you did, it’s best not spoken about in unprotected areas.“

Gareth nodded and looked at Okaranza. „Do you know the state of the police station?“

Okaranza shook her head. „It’s in ruins. I only survived because your friend here reached me before the tsunami hit. She created some kind of black bubble around us.“ She crossed her arms and rubbed her palms over her upper arms. „When the blackness had gone, everything was in ruins. My colleagues…“ She swallowed and shook her head again before looking at Gareth. „Where are you headed now?“

Gareth looked at his feet. „I need to check on my parents. I know they’re on the other side of the city and most likely dead, but I have to make sure.“

Okaranza nodded and they walked in silence for a moment.

„Is there anyone you want us to check upon? Family, friends?“

She shook her head. „Mum died last year, and the only social contacts outside of work are you guys.“ She barked a bitter laugh. „I have a pathetic existence if you think about it.“

„You don’t,“ Gareth retorted. He looked up from his shoes and at Okaranza. „You made the right friends to survive.“

„So far,“ she replied. „I also may just have made the right friends to get into even more trouble.“

„I see you're a smart kid,“ Lady Darklis chuckled.

 

Gareth stood before the house he had grown up in. This part of the city lay lower than most other parts, which meant that the water hadn't flowed off yet and was still filling the streets. Gareth stood ankle deep in the brown water, his hammer tightly gripped.

The house lay in ruins, nothing more than a pile of debris, stones and wood. This whole trek through the city littered by angels and demons had been for naught, and he should have known it.

„Don’t you want to go closer and search the ruins?“ Garcia asked.

Gareth looked at her and shrugged. „I don't see how anyone in here could have survived without help.“

„We haven't fought those bloody supernatural entities through the city to just stand here and stare at ruins.“

„She's right,“ Lady Darklis said.

Gareth sighed and nodded. He glanced at the three exorcists that had begrudgingly followed them through the city. They had eventually started fighting the demons, but had kept themselves out of any fights with angels.

Gareth looked down at his belt and reached for Gloria's head. „Can you sense if someone is alive in those ruins?“

The angle blinked and glanced at the house. „I can. It's one soul in this house. It's weak, though.“

„One soul?“ Gareth repeated. „That means one has survived! Can you guide me?“

„Go to the right part of the building and towards the end,“ Gloria replied.

Gareth nodded and attached his hammer to his before dashing towards the direction where his parents living room used to be. He was aware of Garcia and Lady Darklis following him.

„Stop here,“ Gloria said. „Remove the clutter to your right.“

Gareth stopped and fell to his knees, pushing away the debris with the help of his friends. Eventually, they got through to two bodies lying atop each other.

„Mum! Dad!“ he screamed. He let himself fall down and shoved the last beam away with his feet. Gareth reached for the body of his father that lay on top and pulled him towards himself. He scrambled to feel for his pulse while Garcia pulled his mother towards her.

Gareth put his fingers against his father’s throat, moving them and trying to find the pulse point. Maybe he just didn’t find the right position to feel the weak pulse.

„She’s still alive,“ Garcia said.

Gareth looked up at Garcia and his mother, clutching his father tightly. „One soul, she had said,“ he whispered and looked down at his father. He bent down and pressed his forehead against his father’s forehead for a moment. „Goodbye, Dad.“

He let the body slide to the ground again and shifted towards Garcia and Lady Darklis who were already tending to his mother. „Will she make it?“ he asked and reached for her hand. The fingers lay limply in his hands, feeling colder than what Gareth remembered.

„Depends,“ Lady Darklis replied. She plugged a pouch from her belt and pulled out a mixture of herbs. „We need to get her somewhere safe and warm.“

„Finding a shelter in this city will prove difficult,“ Gareth said. He looked around the ruins and plugged Gloria from his belt to push her into Garcia's hands. "Bully those useless exorcists into helping you salvage more people. Maybe we can save more.“

Garcia nodded and took Gloria. She looked down at the angel’s head in her hands and swallowed. „Do you hear me?“

„Of course I do, sweet child.“ Gloria answered.

„Can you tell me if there are more people alive?“

„There are four in the vicinity. I’ll lead you.“

Gareth watched her climbing back towards the three exorcists before turning back to his mother. He shifted and managed to slip out of his jacket. He pulled it from beneath his cloak and reached out to wrap his mother in it.

„We won’t be able to save all of them,“ Lady Darklis said. She leant forward and put her hand on Gareth’s mother’s forehead.

„I know,“ Gareth muttered. He reached for his mother’s hands again. „We’ll have to try though.“

Lady Darklis nodded and looked down at Gareth’s mother. „What’s her name?“

„Lori,“ Gareth answered and watched Lady Darklis bending down over his mother, starting a low chant.

From the street, he heard voices quarrelling. Apparently, the exorcists didn’t think it’d be of any use to search the ruins and waste time, energy and materials on people that would die anyway.

„What kind of humans are you?“ Garcia shouted. „You can’t be bothered to save your fellow humans in need? Saving souls, isn't that what you're all about? Bloody make yourselves useful!“

Gareth grinned despite the situation. At least they were a team that may stand a chance of survival.

 

A few hours later, they had managed to find the remnants of a house that looked as if it could withstand wind and weather for a night or two. A few rooms were still distinguishable, two of them still had their ceiling even. Gareth didn't trust this house much, but it was the best they had.

They had also managed to salvage more lives in varying conditions on their way, so the house they occupied now looked more like a sad excuse of an infirmary than a shelter. Lady Darklis was walking through the moaning and unconscious, tending to them, while Garcia had gathered those who could still move debris to scout the vicinity for survivors.

Karafoulidou had stayed behind to guard the weak and was leaning against a wall. She looked at the street, only casting a few glances at Gareth, clutching his mother. She was warmer now, stirring from time to time, but still hadn't woken.

 

Karafoulidou huffed and looked back at the street. „They're back with even more ballast.“

Gareth looked up at the small group that was advancing. „Would you prefer to leave them to die?“ he asked.

„It's not sensible to slow us down like this,“ Karafoulidou replied. „We can't just move into another shelter quickly, we don't have any supplies for ourselves, let alone for a steadily growing group of sick people. Most of them won't even make it.“ She sighed. „This is not the time to be heroic and humane.“

„If this is not the time to be humane, _when_ is the time?“ Gareth retorted.

„Just don't count on us to go and hunt critters and pets for food,“ Karafoulidou growled.

Gareth grinned and looked down at his mother. Her eyes were fluttering and he pulled her closer to himself. He looked back at Karafoulidou. „And yet, you're still here instead of going through with your empty threats of leaving us to rot and die.“

„Gareth?“

Gareth looked down at his mother again and smiled at her. He reached for her hand to squeeze it.

„What happened?“ she asked and looked around. Her eyes alighted on the people laid out before them and she pulled on Gareth’s hand to sit up. „Rodney?“

Gareth’s smile fell and he shook his head. He looked up to find Garcia and her small troop had arrived. Lady Darklis rushed over to examine the two people they had brought.

„I remember…“ Lori whispered. „Water, so much water… the ceiling collapses and Rod pushes me to the floor. He saved me.“

„I’m sorry,“ Gareth whispered. He hugged his mother close and pressed his face against her shoulder. „So sorry,“ he murmured, his voice cracking.

He hadn’t allowed himself to wallow in what he had lost so far, but talking to his mother now forced him to face the consequences of their actions. Gareth could feel her hands stroking over his back.

„It’s not your fault,“ she whispered. „You didn't cause any of this.“

Gareth flinched, but couldn’t bring himself to look up.

„You didn’t?“ Fleck’s voice sounded. Gareth looked up at the exorcist standing before him. Karafoulidou and Elias were standing next to him. „I think it’s time you answered Karafoulidou’s question. What did the demon mean, his general's blood is on your hands?“

„Demon?“ Lori repeated. „What are you talking about? There are no such things as demons.“

„It might appear as if we had time for idle chatter now,“ Lady Darklis grunted. „And yet, it is still neither place nor time. Make yourselves useful and put up some more protective spells.“

„Why don’t you take care of those spells?“ Fleck snapped.

„I did my part,“ Lady Darklis stated and turned towards a girl lying on the ground. „Now I’m tending to the injured.“

„You are surrounded by a most curious band,“ Gareth’s mother stated.

„Your son is not any less curious,“ Garcia stated. She knelt down next to them and held out Gloria’s head towards Gareth. He took Gloria and attached her to the strap on his belt.

Gareth’s mother watched him carefully. She stared at the head for a moment before looking back at Garcia. „What do you mean, Ms…?“

„Okaranza,“ Garcia offered and held out her hand. „Garcia Okaranza.“

Gareth’s mother took her hand and offered a smile. „Lori Brennan.“

„And you may call me Lady Darklis,“ Lady Darklis said and slumped down next to them. She sighed and pulled her sword from its sheath. The runes were still shining in a bright red. „We’re pretty much your second best chance to survive this madness.“

„Second best?“ Lori repeated and frowned at the sword. „What would be the first best chance?“

„They’re not around at the moment,“ Gareth muttered. He looked up into the sky. „I still don’t know how I could survive that tsunami and collapsing house. No spell could possible fend off natural disasters, could it?“

„You’ve got no clue whatsoever?“ Gloria asked. Gareth felt his mother flinch, but she didn’t say anything.

Gareth shook his head. „It must have been Matthew, but how? The pendant wouldn’t be enough to keep me save.“

„Your tattoo,“ Ays stated.

„My tattoo?“ Gareth repeated. He lifted his hand and scratched at the place where his tattoo sat. It was still itching, but by now Gareth had got used to the consistent itch.

„There is angel blood in the ink,“ Gloria explained. „Just a few drops, but that's enough.“

„Nonsense!“ Elias snapped. He stood a few metres away from the small group and took a few steps closer. „No one can survive even a drop of angel blood in a pot of ink big enough to cover your whole body.“

Ays chuckled and bared his teeth at the exorcist. „You should do your homework, kiddo.“

„Under certain circumstances, you can survive,“ Gloria explained.

„How?“ Elias demanded while Lady Darklis muttered under her breath, „That’s why that little bastard burnt both ink pots.“

„Not gonna say,“ Ays retorted. „This existence might not be worthwhile, but it's better than being burnt to ashes by a furious seraph. And I'm afraid even his god wouldn't be able to stop him.“

„Matthew's godless,“ Elias growled and turned away while Ays laughed.

Gareth looked down at the demon’s head and frowned. The way Ays had said those words sounded as if Matthew had a god that no one else bowed to. But neither Matthew nor Dom had ever left any doubts about Matthew not belonging to any god anymore. So what could Ays mean by that? Was he referring to a recent change?

Gareth looked over at Lady Darklis. „Does he mean…?“

„Have you figured it out?“ she asked.

Gareth shook his head.

„You’ll understand, little one,“ she chuckled.

 

Gareth woke once again and shivered and pulled his cloak tighter around him and his mother. It had become chill after nightfall. He looked around and squinted into the night. So far, it had been calm. Once voices had passed their camp, whispering and cursing. They didn't seem to notice the group hidden behind spells, though.

Still, Gareth would prefer to move soon, even with the injured. He didn't feel safe staying in one place. The tattoo had started itching harder again. Gareth lifted his hand to scratch at his chest.

He looked up at the sky. The stars were brighter tonight; even the Milky Way was clearly visible. Gareth wondered how people in earlier ages of humankind had been able to sleep under such a bright night sky.

Lori shifted and Gareth looked down at his mother. She had watched silently how Lady Darklis and the exorcists had performed their spells. Soon however, she would demand answers about the current events. Gareth sighed. If it only was his mother demanding answers. The exorcists wouldn't be placated for much longer either.

„Someone's coming,“ Ays grunted.

Gareth frowned at the demon. „Do you think they could tear down the protective spells?“

„Yes“ Gloria whispered. „I know this presence. You need to be careful.“

„Who?“ Gareth asked. Before Gloria could answer, he heard a cracking and the charms and talismans they had laid out for protection went up in flames.

Lori woke with a start and Gareth shifted, pushing her off his lap to stand. He reached for his hammer while Garcia, Lady Darklis and the exorcists pulled out their own weapons. The injured who were awake were huddled together, whimpering and screaming.

A circle of light surrounded the group in which the outlines of a man with wings could be made out. The wings were spread and with a flap of them, the light grew weaker until it only provided enough light to illuminate the newcomer.

His wings were a deep brown that matched his long hair and in his hand he held a broad sword. His body was wrapped in a tunic that resembled that of Michael.

„Gabriel,“ Gloria whispered.

„The archangel?“ Karafoulidou whispered. She let her pistols sink down.

„Gloria, purest of my subordinates, how fortunate to find you here.“

„What is it you want, Gabriel?“

„Answers, just answers for now.“

„As we want answers,“ a new voice came.

Gareth turned to look at the new voice. A woman stood behind them, dressed in a black tunic and her dark long hair curling over her shoulders. Three wings grew from her back, black as her eyes.

„Pythius,“ Lady Darklis growled.

Pythius nodded at her and smirked before looking back at Gabriel.

„You want to know what happened to Michael, we want to know what happened to Belial,“ she drawled. „I'm sure you've got a fair idea about what happened to them, though.“ She turned her head to smirk at Gareth. „Or should I say _who_ happened to them?“

„What do you mean?“ Lacor growled.

„They're dead,“ Gareth replied.

„What?“ Karafoulidou snarled. „How can an archangel and an archdemon be dead?“

„Guess,“ Fleck growled. „Maybe a Viking and his little bird got megalomaniac.“

„They wouldn’t…“ Lacor whispered. He shook his head. „They knew what'd happen.“

„They knew. And they did,“ Gareth replied. „I…“ He faltered for a moment and swallowed. But this was the side he had chosen, backing down now was out of question. He raised the hammer in his hand. „I helped killing Belial. His blood is on this weapon.“

„You helped them, you idiot?“ Fleck screamed. „Did it occur to you to stop their madness?“

„Stop them?“ Gareth repeated and laughed. „How do you think you could stop Donar and Matthew from going through with their plans when _both_ of them agree on them? All you can do is pick your side.“

„And you made the worst choice possible,“ Karafoulidou shouted.

„I didn’t,“ Gareth replied.

„Oh?“ Gabriel asked. „Then where are your Viking and the mighty seraph? Where are they to guide you through this destruction?“

Gareth narrowed his eyes at the angel. „I don’t know. The last time I saw them was in Donar’s garden. _You_ should know. You and your demon pal.“

Gabriel growled and raised his sword while Pythius simply laughed. „Maybe they just deserted you. They unleashed Apocalypse on you and then fled.“

„And where would they escape to?“ Gareth snapped and raised his hammer. Either that angel or the demon would strike soon, if not both together. He took a step further back so he could keep both of them in view. „There’s nowhere to go for them but this world. And after today neither Heaven nor Hell want them. You both are after their blood.“

„There’s always Valhalla,“ Pythius snorted.

„Valhalla is for the deceased. Wherever they are, they’re not deceased,“ Gareth stated. He glanced at Lady Darklis. She stood with her sword raised, but instead of concentrating on the threat at hand she was staring towards the horizon behind Gabriel.

„But you will be deceased soon,“ Gabriel shouted over a low rumbling that was heard. „I've got enough of Dominic's little gang. Killing Michael was the final affront!“

A noise that sounded like stones grating against each other, steady and permanent like mountains and cliffs, was heard. It grew louder until Gareth saw giant rocks, made to look like men, appear. He swallowed. „The trolls will wake from their stone slumber…“ he whispered.

Too late, Gareth noticed movement to his right and ducked to avoid Gabriel's attack. He knew, he shouldn't have been able to avoid the sword, it should have pierced right through his chest. But Gareth's fall remained unbroken. He looked up at Gabriel.

Rocks grew around his body, starting from the ground and leading upwards like an arm whose hand ended in a giant hand that had closed around the angel's head. Gareth looked higher at the colossus behind Gabriel, kneeling and one arm thrust deep into the ground. A group of six or seven similar figures stood behind it.

A deep rumble came from the kneeling colossus, tumbling into the air to create words. „Garethbrennan Rodnasson?“


	20. Svo Hljott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we follow a Viking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And swiftly we move on. ;)
> 
> This chapter’s title is stolen from the Sigur Rós song of the same name. Apparently, it means „So Quietly“.
> 
> Also, I wonder if I should repeat that „Ask the Cast“ interview thingy I did many years ago with Captus est (Anyone remember that one? I still haven’t given up on it…). So what do you say? Any questions left? Anything you want to ask anyone from this little universe? Hit me. Figuratively of course.
> 
> As always, beta'd by my darling Anita.

Donar groaned and rolled onto his back. His limbs hurt. His back hurt. His head hurt as well. He lifted his hand from his face.

„Where…?“

He certainly wasn’t in his back garden anymore, if the orange glow illuminating sparse rocks was anything to go by. Donar felt around, his fingers brushing through sand until his fingertips touched against the familiar wood of his skeggöx’s handle.

Only then did he sit up and took a closer look at the surroundings. Black rocks were shimmering and whirring in the distance and red sand and rocks stretched out around Donar. He was alone.

Donar stood and looked around again. „Matthew?“

He waited, but there was no sign of the seraph whatsoever. He really was alone.

„At least no demons or angels either,“ Donar growled and pushed himself to stand, skeggöx still resting in his hand. Once again, he turned around to take in the landscape. „Might as well get towards the mountains.“

He looked down at his arms. The tattoos were shimmering a faint red. Maybe Donar should just set off an explosive spell and see where he’d end up. On the other hand, he didn’t even know where he was right now. Setting off destructive spells might not be one of his best ideas right now.

Sighing, Donar set into motion towards the black rocks.

He kept walking for what felt like at least a day before the landscape changed somewhat. Black stones and small rocks poked out from the red sand. The temperature was rising with each meter Donar passed as well.

Donar stopped and looked around. He felt a cold shiver running down his back. Someone was watching him, hidden even in an empty desert landscape.

Sighing, Donar walked on, the feeling of being watched not vanishing. Eventually, Donar stopped between two man-high rocks. He climbed onto one of them and raised his axe to chest height.

„Come out, come out, wherever you are,“ he called out in a sing-song voice.

„I was wondering when you’d notice me,“ a voice hissed.

Donar looked around, trying to locate the source of the voice. Still nothing but rocks and sand was to be seen. „The question wasn’t about when I’d notice you, but when I’d loose my patience with a lurking bastard. Show your ugly face.“

Laughter surrounded Donar. „You’re so rude, no wonder everyone wants you dead.“

„I’d like to think there’s more than simple rudeness to everyone wishing me dead.“

„You keep telling yourself that,“ the voice sounded next to Donar’s right ear.

Donar frowned and turned his head. He was met with a row of white teeth amidst a black face, red horns growing out of the temples and spiralling backwards, their tips growing closer behind the creature’s head until they became one long upwards-curling horn.

„And one day you’ll even believe there’s more to you than just rudeness,“ the voice hissed into Donar’s left ear.

With a shout, Donar jumped back and raised his skeggöx higher, ready to strike. A second creature had turned up. It was white, baring his black teeth in a grin. A red horn was growing from his forehead, curling over the skull and splitting into two horns that curved upwards.

„What are you, the inverted demon twins?“ Donar growled.

„Don’t get cheeky, you little piece of log,“ the black demon roared. He lifted his arms that ended in long, red claws. „You’re without your little birdie here.“

„Don’t think I wouldn’t take you little shits out even on my own,“ Donar growled.

„We’re on our home ground now,“ the black demon hissed. „Even you couldn’t fight all the demons of the ninth circle on your own, Viking boy.“

„So that’s where we are,“ Donar whispered and looked around once more before concentrating on the two demons in front of him.

The white demon dipped its head in acknowledgement and took a step to the side, indicating the path between the two rocks and the mountains. „You’re expected. Follow.“

„By whom?“ Donar asked.

„Don’t ask unnecessary questions, human waste. Do as you’re ordered.“

Donar smiled at the black demon and sunk down to the ground, crossing his legs. „Whose order, Blacky? I don’t recognise anyone being around who’d be in the position to give me orders.“

„You’ve been summoned to the ninth circle of hell,“ the white demon replied. „Who do you think it is that wants to talk to you?“

„Who indeed?“ Donar retorted. „Why don’t you say his name, Whitey?“

„You don’t mention his name in the red dessert,“ Blacky snarled. „It wakes the sleeping guards. We don’t want those awake for a safe passage.“

Sighing once again, Donar stood and rested his skeggöx over his shoulder. He indicated towards the path. „Fine, lead the way then.“

The demons snarled and turned to descend the rock. Donar jumped down from it and followed further towards the mountains. The two demons remained silent.

Donar smirked. He started humming some of the few gospels he remembered. At first, the demons didn't react bar twitching lips and ears. Eventually, Whitey stopped and bared his black teeth at Donar.

„Stop this horrible humming,“ he snarled.

Donar shook his head and started singing.

„Stop this, you bloody bag of meat!“ Blacky roared and grabbed Donar by the throat.

„Careful,“ Donar stated, smiling sweetly. „I doubt Lucifer will appreciate you hurting his guest.“

„You stupid ape!“ Black screamed and pushed Donar onto the ground.

The hot air cooled down significantly within moments while the sky became black, a few red spots shimmering.

**Who dares calling His name?** a voice boomed through the air.

„Forgive us, great guardian,“ Whitey called. He cowered on the ground and looked around at the sky.

„He summoned a puny and stupid human,“ Blacky added. He, too, was cowering in the sand, bowing his upper body continuously.

Donar sighed and stood, skeggöx rested on his shoulder. His tattoos were shining brightly now. „I used Lucifer's name, got a problem with that?“

The two demons on the ground whimpered and pressed themselves further down.

**Who are you, vile human, to invade our lands and wake us?**

„I didn't invade anything since a few centuries,“ Donar shouted back. „I also didn't ask to be summoned from my backyard into this bleakness.“

This voice didn't reply, but Donar felt chill air moving, stroking over his skin and tracing the runes inked into his skin.

**You are the Viking, the harbinger and bringer of Apocalypse.**

„Flattery will get you far,“ Donar replied.

Growling ran through the atmosphere and the two demons as Donar's feet screamed. Their voices faded into a gurgling sound before their bodies flattened against the ground. They melted into the sand and finally had vanished.

„Shame,“ Donar stated. „I had just started to draw some entertainment from the inverted twins. Now I'm back to boredom.“

**They annoyed me for centuries now. I'll get you to Him quicker.**

The gusts of wind moving around Donar changed. Their soft touch increased, pushing Donar into the air.

**It will also get you out of my desert faster.**

The landscape moved beneath Donar, wind tearing on his skin and hair. But at least it only took a few seconds to pass the vast wasteland. The movement stopped suddenly and Donar feel down in front of a large in the mountain. He looked up at the pillars left and right of the hole depicting the hierarchy of demons and the nine circles of hell.

**You're awaited.**

Donar looked up into the sky. The darkness faded again and soon the sky was shining orange again.

Donar sighed. He hadn't planned on ever facing God or Lucifer his own. With Matthew by his side, he was invincible, but on his own he felt like nothing more than an ordinary human. He didn't even know where his seraph was. Had Matthew been summoned as well? Was he still on Earth?

Donar closed hips eyes and breathed in. He still felt that bond connecting him to the angel. Which meant he only had to forego setting everything on fire. He opened his eyes and smirked, fingers tightening around his axe. There was still a lot of fun to be had.

He took a step into the dark entry, raising his arm, palm upwards. „Það kann eg ið átta, er öllum er  
nytsamlegt að nema: Hvar er hatur vex með hildings sonum það má eg bæta brátt,“ he sung.

The right glow of the runes on his right arm increased for a moment before it moved towards his hand. The glow of the runes faded until only Donar's hand shone bright red. He flicked his hands upwards and the glow left his palm. It stayed above his palm for a second and then spread, tinting the corridor in a soft red.

Whispers talked outside of the light that centred around Donar, cursing his heathen magic, cursing the Viking himself. Donar ignored the voices and followed the corridor until he stood in front of a closed gate. The doors were made of stone and iron, spells that Donar hadn't seen in a long time threatening anyone who dated to trespass without authorisation.

_Turn off that disgusting light before I open the gate,_ a soft voice whispered. It wasn't louder than the other whispers in the corridor, it seemed to be softer and lower even. Still, it drowned out any other sound.

„So you can ambush me in the dark?“ Donar retorted. „No. You want to see me, you deal with the light.“

_I give you my word, you won't be ambushed._

„You want me to believe Christian promises?“

The voices around Donar grew loud, the uproar almost deafening.

_I want to offer an agreement._

„For which you separated me from my seraph?“

_He would have burnt us. He's an unreasonable creature._

„So you prefer me smashing your skulls?“ Donar laughed. „You should know I'm just as unreasonable as Matthew.“

To his surprise, the doors before him swung back to reveal a fast hall carved into the mountain. It was void of decoration from what Donar could make out. The voices around him cried out, pleading to close the door again, but they were ignored.

_Come in then._

Donar shrugged and walked forward. He stopped once he stood in the hall. Before him, something simmered, changing its colour in soft pulses. Donar walked towards the light. The closer he came, the more he could make out the form of a being appearing human. However, the being had four wings wrapped around itself. The glow it emitted was caused by the wings that fluttered softly.

„Lucifer, I presume?“ Donar said once he had reached the creature.

Lucifer nodded and spread his wings to reveal a naked body and full, red hair. Its beauty rivalled Matthew's, Donar thought. Matthew wasn't perfect, however. Where Matthew might still have shown bones or dimples, Lucifer was perfect and smooth. Eyes the colour of rubies looked at Donar.

„He made me to be perfect indeed,“ Lucifer stated.

Donar shrugged. „One could argue about him succeeding in such a task.“

Lucifer laughed, the sound soft pearls moving through the air. „He's an ambitious god.“

„He's an arrogant god,“ Donar replied. „But enough with the smalltalk. You wanted to offer an agreement.“

Lucifer dipped his head. „Indeed, I did say so.“ He flexed his wings, sending gusts of light through the hall that collided with the walls and skitting over the rough rocks, illuminating lesser demons that scurried away from it. „You caused quite a disruption in the dimensions which enabled me to summon you here. And maybe it's time to join forces,“ he said.

Donar raised his eyebrow at him.

„Don't look at me like that,“ Lucifer purred. „We both want Him gone. You're mildly annoyed by him, Matthew hates him, I hate him.“

„The enemy of my enemy?“

Lucifer nodded and took a step closer. He reached out to rest one hand on Donar's shoulder. „Just think what we could achieve together.“

„And you need me why?“

Lucifer smiled, a smile that even Matthew couldn't rival in sweetness and innocence. „You know what he did when he saved you, don‘t you?“

„I‘ve got a fair idea, yes,“ Donar replied and glanced at the hand on his shoulder.

„Let‘s get together,“ Lucifer purred and took a step even closer to Donar. „Together we can rule the world and the heavens. You will be my right hand and every demon or angel, no matter their hierarchy will obey you. Midgard could be your kingdom.“

Donar looked up from the hand on his shoulder. He took a step beck, away from Lucifer's reach and smiled. „No,“ he stated softly. „If we teamed up, you'd be my minion. You need me, because you need a god to allow you to live. If God dies, so will you, together with all the other angels and fallen angels.“

The light of Lucifer's wings vanished until it seemed as if he was carrying black holes on his back. Even the light that surrounded Donar and the glow of his tattoos was drawn towards Lucifer's wings in swirling lines. „You‘ll die as well,“ Lucifer growled. „You and that seraph.“

„Will we?“ Donar asked. „I don't think you really understand what Matthew changed.“

„And you do?“ Lucifer roared.

„Just confirming suspicions,“ Donar retorted. He turned and started to walk away. „I won’t be your pawn, Lucy.“

Screaming reverberated through the hall, echoing off the walls and growing louder in volume. Fighting the urge to press his hands against his ears, Donar continued walking. He had to get out of this place and find Matthew.

He also had to return to Earth. He couldn't imagine the planet being in a good shape. If Lucifer had been able to summon Donar, it meant every Christian border or seal had broken and both angels and demons were fighting their war.

Donar felt sharp pain piercing through him and stopped. He looked down to see the point of a black lance poke out of his left chest. He could hear Lucifer's hissing over the hysterical laughter and chanting.

_Idiot! You've doomed us all!_

Donar coughed, sputtering blood over his chest as he stumbled, coldness skewing through his veins. He sank to his knees, skeggöx slipping from his fingers. The red light he had summoned flickered and vanished before even the glow of his tattoos faded and darkness encompassed him.

„Matthew,“ he whispered before his head hit the hard rocks and numb darkness filled his head.


	21. A Song in Which to Weep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we follow a Seraph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, if you want some kind of „Interview the Cast“ happening, it’s time to send in questions. ;)
> 
> This chapter’s title is nicked from the Nick Cave song, The Weeping Song.
> 
> Beta'd as always by my darling Anita. :)

Matthew let his wings slowly sink down from around him. The bright light that had surrounded him had gone now. His feet were wet, as if he was standing in water. Ignoring this for the moment, he spun around himself to take in his surroundings.

What he saw was devoid of any colour, a garden made of white. He looked down at his feet to see his own reflection in the lake. It was white. His wings, his eyes and hair, white. He brought one of his wings forward to look at it without the reflection. White even in reality.

„The White Garden,“ Matthew mumbled. So he was in high heaven. He sneered at his reflection.

Matthew remembered his fascination with the White Garden, especially with the lake. But looking back at its surface now, he couldn‘t understand why he hadn‘t felt repulsed. The lake drained him of any colour, only showing someone that was devoid of character. There was nothing pure about the whiteness of this garden.

He looked down at himself. Even the marks Donar had left twice now were barely visible. They faded into the white of his skin. Matthew reached down and laid his hands on the marks. He winced when he felt pain in his hands.

They were still burnt from where he had grabbed Michael’s halberd. Matthew shouted and straightened his wings, sending six fire balls from them. The grass and trees around him went up in flames, still white. He stood in what had been a lake and now was mere sand. Some remnants of fish were left behind, but still, no colours.

Matthew heard soft voices and looked up. He noticed angels standing just outside of the White Garden, whispering to each other and staring at him with wide eyes. Matthew growled and took a step towards them.

The angels fell silent and moved back a few steps.

„Cattle. Cowardly cattle,“ Matthew snarled and stretched his wings, opening the eyes in them.

Shrieking, the angels ran away, stumbling over each other in their haste to get away from the fallen seraph. However one person remained standing leant against a pillar. Matthew frowned. He didn’t see wings on her, but she was somehow familiar.

„Melinda?“ Matthew asked.

The brunette woman nodded and turned towards Matthew, looking down at her feet. She was still wearing the same dress as she did on her dying day, red stains soiling the ripped fabric. It was only held up by Melinda keeping her arm pressed against her chest.

Matthew took a few steps towards her, still she was looking at her feet.

„What are you doing here?“ Matthew asked. „How could you make it into high heaven?“

„I was summoned,“ she whispered and finally looked at Matthew. Her face was barely recognisable. It was covered in red burn marks, scars distorting her skin into a grotesque mask.

Matthew frowned. „What do you mean? To what end?“

„Raphael pulled me from purgatory to talk to you,“ she replied. She let her arms fall down and her dress slipped from her body, revealing more burnt skin and scars around a large open wound that ran from throat to stomach. The wound was filled with pus that dripped down.

„What about?“ Matthew growled and spread his wings.

Melinda sighed and looked down at the dress pooling around her feet. „About how you should leave Dominik behind.“

„I won’t,“ Matthew stated.

„I know,“ she replied. She raised her head again to look at Matthew. „And I don’t want you to leave him.“ She sank to the floor and sat cross-legged, pulling her dress higher to cover her chest. She looked up at Matthew. „I was forced to watch you. Each day on the day that should have been our wedding they showed me Dominik. It was meant as my punishment, being forced to see him moving on and forget me.“

„He never did,“ Matthew answered and kneeled down.

Melinda smiled, wincing when the muscles in her face pulled on the scars in her face. „I only ever was an intermezzo in your lives and yet Dominik still wears the ring on our day.“

She shifted and moaned, clutching her chest with her right hand, and fell forward. She grabbed Matthew's arm. „I'm happy enough with the knowledge that he still cares.“

She whimpered and collapsed against Matthew. Matthew shifted and looked down at her. The smell of iron that was so typically blood filled his nose and he felt liquid rubbing down his arm and chest. Even from the nails of her fingers a stream of blood flowed.

A shadow fell over them and Matthew looked up. An angel was standing before them, a golden halo shining over long, dark hair. He held a white-golden staff that curled into itself at the top.

„Raphael,“ Matthew growled.

The archangel looked down at the bleeding woman in Matthew’s arms. „That’s not what we saved you for.“

Matthew growled and lifted his left hand to Melinda’s face. His burnt fingers grew warm against the scar tissue and liquid flowing from the open wounds. The blood lessened and healthy skin was visible.

„You dare defy us even here?“ Raphael hissed.

„I’m defying you everywhere.“

Matthew felt a weak hand around his wrist and looked down at it. Melinda was holding him and pulling his hand away from her face.

„Please, let me rest now. It’s time for me to just sleep,“ Melinda whispered. „You just watch over him.“

„Silly humans,“ Matthew growled. He leant forward and brought his wings around them. „Believe in Valhalla. Believe in what Donar told you. You can be a raven maiden.“

She laughed, blood spluttering from her mouth. „I might just…“

Matthew kept his wings around her and raised his eyes to stare at Raphael.

„And now you’re bringing heathen ideas to the high heaven,“ the archangel growled. „She’s chosen her fate once again by refusing penitence.“

„For what should she be showing penitence?“ Matthew growled. He felt heat beneath his wings, but still kept her hidden. Only when he felt soft flakes trickling down his arms and legs he unwrapped his wings. He stood and took a step over her ashes. „When are you going to show penitence?“

Raphael stared down at the heap of ashes. „You took her from us.“

„Why am I here?“ Matthew asked.

„He summoned you,“ Raphael replied and looked at Matthew. „Maybe He has decided to forgive you in his endless kindness.“

Matthew laughed and shook his head. „How would He ever forgive me? I’m further away from him than I’ve been ever before.“

Raphael crinkled his nose and sneered. „Who would have thought you’d sink so far that you even succumb to idolatry?“

„Idolatry?“ Matthew repeated. „If I’m worshipping idols, what do you call your life?“

Raphael pressed his left palm against his forehead and shook his head. „I’ll never understand why He left your wings untouched.“

Matthew growled and folded his wings behind his back. „Don’t you dare touch my wings.“

„I’m not Michael,“ Raphael stated. „I can assess my chances when met with a rabid seraph.“ He looked at Matthew’s hands. „Do you want me to heal them?“

Matthew curled his fingers into his palms, biting back the wince of pain. „I don’t need your mercy or pity,“ he growled.

Raphael shrugged and turned. „Follow me, He awaits you.“

Matthew sneered but followed Raphael towards the Great Hall. He looked back at the soft flakes of ashes behind him. If Raphael couldn’t sense her anymore, she either had ceased to be or really had managed to finally flee these self-righteous bastards. Whichever was true, she was better off now.

Raphael stopped before a large white gate and turned around to Matthew, indicating the door.

Matthew looked up at the ivory poles adorned by white leaves and flowers. He shivered. How could he ever have felt home at a place like this? It wasn’t only the White Garden that was void of any character or emotion. All of high heaven was bleak, disguising its meaninglessness with blinding light.

„Scared of getting burnt by His magnificence?“

Matthew growled and lifted his burnt hands. „I could burn down this bloody gate if you preferred.“

Sighing, Raphael lifted his staff and the gate slid open without a sound. It revealed a long corridor, lined with smooth pillars that towered high into the clouds that made up the ceiling.

„Who would have thought I’d be setting foot into the Great Hall again,“ Matthew murmured. He stepped into the corridor and paused to look up at the white clouds. Gentle song was heard and Matthew felt his wings twitch.

How long had it been since his voice had joined in the doxologies and encomiums?

Matthew pressed his teeth together and looked forward. He just wanted to resume walking, when he felt a stab in his heart. He pressed his right hand against his heart, fingers digging into his skin until he drew blood.

Matthew sunk to his knees and wrapped his wings around himself. He was lost. He had lost everything. _Him._ The place he had finally found for himself.

And for the first time in centuries, Matthew raised his voice to truly sing. He allowed the blazing pain in his wings to spread and the song that had filled the Great Hall turned into distorted screams.

Matthew didn’t listen to the agony and shrill howls around him. He continued singing, offering a hymn and praise to the man he just had lost.


	22. Von

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet the Carpenter again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is once again taken from Sigur Rós. Once again, it’s Icelandic meaning Hope.
> 
> Also, I still have not re-read this chapter. I had to force myself to finish writing it, else you still would be waiting for these six final chapters. And I’m still so done with it. I hope you’ll like it nevertheless.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, beta'd by the second half of the dreamteam, Anita.

„Rodnasson?“ Gareth repeated. He shifted as the kneeling rock colossus rose to stand even taller than the group behind him.

The colossus pulled his hand from the ground and looked at the pillar of rock that once had been Gabriel. A gurgling scream came from behind.

Gareth turned around, cursing. How could he have forgotten about the archdemon? Of course, Pythius would use their distraction and attack. However, Gareth wasn't met with a bloodbath among the group he had wanted to protect. What he saw was another stone colossus standing behind a pillar of stone resembling Pythius.

„You belong to raven of war,“ the colossus rumbled.

Gareth swallow and gripped his hammer tighter. „Raven of war?“ he repeated. „Wælhrafnson, you're referring to Donar.“

The troll dipped his head. „We are Reynisdrangar,“ the troll said and raised his arm to point at the troll behind them. „This is Hafróttröll.“ He pointed at himself. „I am Frónband. In past, we dream, we know what we need to. We secure boat and sleep in sun. We know to wake when our new god rises.“

„Your new god,“ Gareth mumbled. „How?“

„Soon, you learn and realise, Garethbrennan Rodnasson.“

Gareth frowned. „Matthew must have done something. He changed something when they encountered Belial.“ He lifted his hand to trace the scar next to his eye. „He… No, he'd never. Even for Donar he wouldn't go that far.“

Ays chuckled. „He did. You better believe your instincts, boy.“

Gareth sighed and ran his free hand through his hair, turning around to look at the group behind him. Some of them were staring at the trolls, eyes wide and mouths gaping, others were staring at the pillars of rock that used to be angel and demon. The exorcists, Lady Darklis, Garcia and his mother were looking at him, expectant.

Gareth turned back to the trolls. „You’ve got a ship?“

Frónband nodded. „Our knarr, Gnauða Tré, be in haven.“

„Can we get the wounded and those who can’t fight onto it and keep them save?“

„We be here to serve raven of war,“ Frónband said. „Not to protect measly humans.“

„Still, we need to save them,“ Gareth retorted. „l doubt Donar would want an empty Earth.“

Rumbling came from the trolls that Gareth identified as laughter.

„You be right,“ Hafróttröll said. „He be bored“

Gareth grinned and attached his hammer to his belt. „Now that we’ve settled that, how many people can your ship hold?“

„With supplies you cannot take many more passengers than this,“ one of the trolls replied, pointing at the group behind Gareth.

„Supplies,“ Gareth hummed. He looked at Lady Darklis who shrugged. „I’m not sure we’ll find much of that.“

„And where would you be going?“ Karafoulidou asked. „This is Apocalypse. Do you think there’d be somewhere not destroyed we could reach on a bloody troll ship?“

„You can always sit here and wait for your angel chums,“ Gareth snarled.

„Oh, and that would go down too well after that bloody seraph killed Michael, would it? That self-loving bastard doomed everyone on this world the moment he betrayed his god.“

„You dare talk ill of raven man?“ Hafróttröll roared. He raised his arm and gashed it into the ground.

„Wait!“ Gareth shouted and rushed forward. He yanked Fleck from the point where he stood just in time to avoid the stones shooting out of the ground. „Please, don’t kill him!“

„He speak ill about raven man,“ another troll shouted.

„We might need him,“ Gareth rushed to say.

„He sympathise with enemy,“ Frónband grumbled.

„He doesn't know any better,“ Gareth replied. He let go of Fleck and took a step to the side. With some satisfaction, he noticed the exorcist shuffling closer to him. „He's a human. Humans are fools.“

„You be wise for human standards, Garethbrennan Rodnasson,“ Frónband roared in the rumble that was a troll’s laugh.

„Why is he calling you Rodnasson?“ Gareth heard his mother whisper.

„Nordic patronyms,“ Lady Darklis replied. „Your husband’s name was Rodney, wasn’t it?“

„We shall build cart for wounded people. Borða Örn pull them to Gnauða Tré,“ Hafróttröll suggested and pointed at the biggest troll. The indicated troll nodded and roared. Borða Örn turned and pushed against another troll’s shoulder and together they shambled away, tossing rubble and debris aside in their search for something useful.

„We still haven’t decided where we could go,“ Karafoulidou said.

Gareth shrugged. „We’ll see where we’ll end up.“ He shivered and looked up into the sky. It still was azure and the sun shone brightly, but something unsettled Gareth. He felt it in his stomach and creeping down his spine.

Gareth unplugged his hammer and mask from the belt. „Something’s coming,“ he whispered as he pulled the mask over his head. He looked at Lady Darklis and Garcia. Both had drawn and raised their weapons and were looking around.

Lori shifted closer to her son and rested a hand against his back. „Aren’t you scared?“ she whispered.

Gareth sighed and turned his head, managing to spot his mother through the hole in his mask. „Constantly,“ he admitted.

He looked behind himself at the terrified and hurt people. They cowered closer together, still gaping at the trolls and Gareth. He lifted his hand and scratched at his tattoo.

„Could one of you have an eye on the wounded and protect them from attacks?“

Frónband nodded and pointed at one of the trolls. „Rigniskessa protect weak humans. She be strong.“

The indicated troll step forward and walked over to the huddled people, only stopping when she was standing above them. Some of them screamed, but they were silenced when Rigniskessa rumbled, „Be silent or you attract too much attention.“

_There’s no need in trying to hide_ a voice cackled. The voice surrounded them and Gareth looked around trying to locate the source.

Crimson ran over the sky, bathing the former blue in the colour of blood. A bright flash shot towards Gareth. He let himself fall backwards, shouting for help. He felt a stab of pain in his tattoo before a black hue enveloped him.

The light collided with the black cloud and split, sizzling around Gareth without touching him.

„That bloody bird,“ the voice hissed again, this time into Gareth’s ear. Gareth yanked his arm up and hit his hammer against whoever had attacked him. He pushed himself up to stand again and swivelled around to face his attacked again. 

However, Lady Darklis had been faster and Angurvadal was just slicing through the neck of a bald creature, its skin red and blood a dark brown.

_You cannot kill all of us!_ a new voice screamed.

_We will end you puny humans!_ another voice hissed.

Another scream, shrill and short, was heard and the body of another red demon fell to the ground. Light spread above the group of humans and trolls. More dead bodies dropped on them and only the protecting hands of the trolls saved Lady Darklis and Lori from being hit by one of them.

„Demons,“ Gareth muttered. He looked at the bodies. Some spotted wings, leathered wings, feathered wings, red, white and black; others had horns on their heads. Gareth looked up at the sky and gripped his hammer tighter. Only angels could have caused falling of corpses.

He couldn’t make out any forms in the blinding light above him. The group wouldn’t be able to fend off any attacks like this. A few people screamed, but they sounded like screams of terror and panic, not like the screams of agony that Gareth had grown accustomed to now.

Rumbling was heard, a sound reminiscent of debris avalanches. Gareth pressed his free hand against his ear and turned towards the noise. One of the trolls was impaled by five spears of light. He stumbled, fighting for balance but another spear drilled itself into his head from behind.

The light lessened and slowly, a circle of winged beings in white togas became visible.

„Heathens and murderers!“ they screamed as the troll fell down, the ground shaking. „Don’t think you won’t meet your just end as well.“

One of the angels flapped her wings and glided down until she stood on the troll’s head. She pointed her sword at Gareth. „Especially you won’t escape,“ she growled. Her eyes fell down at Gloria’s head on Gareth’s belt. She ruffled her nose. „Traitor.“

She flapped her wings and just so avoided the troll hand that shot out of the ground.

„How dare you raise weapons against Björk?“ Hafróttröll roared. He moved his arm, surprisingly fast, and grabbed the fleeing angel mid-air. She tossed and screamed, jabbing her sword at the fist that held her. Rocks fell to the ground, but Hafróttröll didn’t let go.

Even as the other angels swept down on him and the group, he just tightened his fist. The angel howled louder for a moment before the scream ended in gurgling. Blood dripped from Hafróttröll’s fist and with a grumble of disdain, he tossed the corpse away.

It fell down next to a demon’s body while the remaining angels cried out. Most of them swarmed around the trolls, attacking them and trying to avoid their fists.

Gareth turned towards his friends and then looked at the group of defenceless people. So far, no one was attacking them. So maybe this was their chance to move them towards the knarr of the trolls.

„Pay attention!“ Ays hollered.

Gareth let himself fall away from the flicker of movement to his right. He stared up at the angel who had his lance raised above his head, ready to thrust it down. He tried to scramble backwards, but he wouldn’t be fast enough to dodge the thrust.

He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the final blow, screams of terror and victory mingling in his ears. The blow didn’t come though. Instead he felt something fall onto him. He opened his eyes and looked down.

Lori lay in his lap, the angel’s lance buried in her back. The angel yanked his weapon out of her and flicked it, sending drops of blood flying.

„Mum!“ Gareth shouted. He let go of his hammer and laid his hands on her cheeks. „Why?“

Lori coughed. Blood sprinkled from her mouth onto Gareth’s coat. She lifted one of her hands, but let it fall down again. Lori coughed again and her eyes become dull. Gareth swallowed and shook his head, in an attempt to force back the tears. He reached up and pushed her eyes closed with one hand.

„No one’s going to save you now,“ the angel stated.

Without looking at him, Gareth laid his mother onto the ground and grabbed his hammer. He stood and looked at the angel. „As no one’s going to save _you_.“

He raised his arm and thrust the hammer forward. The angel jumped back and raised his lance, but Gareth followed and avoided the long-ranged weapon. He pulled his arm back before thrusting it forwards. The metal head of the hammer connected with the head of the angel and the sound of bones crunching was heard.

The angel stumbled backwards, his lance slipping from his fingers and falling to the ground. Gareth didn’t even wait to until the angel had fallen to the ground. He turned around, taking in the fighting trolls, Fleck lying in his own blood and whining as Lacor and Karafoulidou stood fighting with one angel above him. Garcia was aiming at the angels that attacked the trolls, but her bullets hardly hit home and if they did, the angels only showed slight annoyance before continuing to attack the trolls.

Lady Darklis was faring better. She stood above an angel with bleeding wings and neck, fighting off two more angels that bled from hands and legs.

Still, they didn’t stand a chance. Especially not if the laughter that chimed through the sky was anything to judge by. Gareth reached down and lifted Gloria’s head higher. „How many?“

„I don’t know,“ Gloria whimpered.

„They’re too many,“ Ays growled. „It’s like two armies are advancing.“

„Fuck,“ Gareth whispered. His tattoo itched again and Gareth reached up to scratch it through his layers of clothes as he looked up into the sky. „Where are you?“ he asked, but the sky remained crimson. „Where the fuck are you? I could do with some help!“ he shouted. „I know you’re still alive, so get your bloody arses down here!“

Silence spread.

Gareth turned around again, he saw his friends and comrades-in-arms, the trolls and the wounded. What he didn’t see were angels or demons. Even their corpses had disappeared.

A streak of blue broke through the crimson of the sky. It described a crack that spread and eventually grew broader until the whole sky was azure once more.

Gareth lifted Gloria higher, at a loss about what to do else.

„Alone,“ she whispered. „I’m alone.“


	23. Guess I'll See You Dancin' in the Ruins Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn what happens to the Viking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter is not too confusing, I’m just tossing a whole pantheon on you here.
> 
> This chapter’s title is nicked from the Blue Öyster Cult song Dancin’ in the Ruins.
> 
> As always, beta'd by my darling Anita. :D

Sadness.

There was a song that spoke of sadness and loss. And still, in its deep sadness, it was beautiful. A clear voice tangible even without the sound.

„I think he's awake!“ someone shouted through the melody.

„About time, I already believed he'd stay dead forever!“ another voice called amidst laughter.

Donar blinked. He knew those voices. They were familiar, albeit long missed and almost forgotten. He drew in breath through his nose. The smoke of fire, of roasted meat and of well-brewed mead filed his nose. Someone poked his foot and Donar grunted, kicking back. More laughter was heard.

Grunting, Donar rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. There was no carved rock above him, but a high ceiling made of wood and straw, lit up by the flickering shine of fire. He lifted his hand to stroke over his left chest. No wound.

„So nice to finally join us, old friend,“ a very familiar voice said.

Donar turned his head. He saw a young face with unruly brown locks, a broad smile beaming down at him. „Kvikbjorn?“

„The very same,“ Kvikbjorn replied. He reached out and grabbed Donar's shoulders to pull him into a sitting position. „Welcome to Valhalla.“

„Valhalla?“ Donar repeated. He pushed himself up to stand, reaching for his trusty skeggöx. It wasn't attached to the belt. Donar looked down, feeling along his belt and panic reaching out for him.

„You arrived without any weapons,“ Kvikbjorn said.

„It slipped from my hand when someone stabbed me,“ Donar muttered. He looked around again, taking in the vast hall, long tables were covered with meat, bread and horns of mead. Familiar and unfamiliar faces from his youth looked back at him, most of them he couldn’t align with names, Donar realised. There was one very familiar face missing though.

„Where’s Matthew?“

„Are you still together with him?“ Kvikbjorn asked and put his arm around Donar’s shoulder. He lead his old friend towards the head of a table and pushed him to sit down.

„Yes, where is he?“ Donar asked and accepted the horn of mead that was offered to him by a busty woman. Matthew would both appreciate the mead and the woman, Donar thought. „Where I go, he goes. I can’t be dead.“

He turned his head from Kvikbjorn to the table, noticing a man on his left. The man was of strong built, muscles visible beneath the chainmail, and red hair plaited into a long tail and the beard hanging down in two plaited tails as well.

The redhead raised his own horn towards Donar and grinned. „Donar Wælhrafnson!“ he shouted. „I am pleased to finally meet you.“

Donar frowned. This was definitely not a face he had ever seen before. „And who are you?“

„Donar, shush,“ Kvikbjorn hissed.

The redheaded man just laughed. „You don’t even recognise the gods you believed in all your life?“ he asked. „I’m your namesake.“

Donar stared at the man. „Thor?“ he asked. The redhead nodded and grinned. „Oh…“ Donar swallowed and looked around in the hall again. „But I’m not dead, am I?“

„What makes you say that?“ Thor retorted.

„Matthew,“ Donar replied. „I can’t die as long as he lives. So if I’d be dead, he’d be as well. And he’s not here. He can’t be dead.“

„He’s not of our pantheon.“

„He’s mine,“ Donar growled. „He goes where I’m going.“

„You’ve made that clear early on. And it seems he’s willing to follow you now,“ Thor replied. He raised his horn to his lips and took a long sip before waving at one of the valkyrjur. She hurried towards him with a crock and refilled the horn. „But let’s return to the start of our conversation. You raised another point.“

Donar stared at Thor. He took a sip from his own horn and swallowed. „I’m not dead?“

Thor shook his head. „No, how could you be? You’ve even got your own skald after all.“

„What do you mean?“

Thor laughed and emptied his horn once more. „Have you really no clue what Matthew did to save you after Belial unbound you?“

Donar looked down at the mead in his horn. He shrugged. „I’ve got a suspicion.“

„That you won’t voice in fear of appearing presumptuous before your gods.“

Donar nodded and downed his mead. He held the horn in front of him, not even looking up when it was promptly refilled.

„You’re right though,“ Thor stated. „It was the only way to save you. Angels can’t soulbind themselves.“

„I’m…“ Donar looked up again at Thor. Acknowledging his suspicions aloud still felt blasphemous, even more so faced with the god he was named after. „I’m a…“

„Yes, you’re a god, namesake,“ Thor affirmed.

Donar looked down at his hands. He didn’t feel differently than before, so how could he suddenly be a god? Shouldn’t he feel surges of power running through his veins? Shouldn’t his head explode with sudden and incomprehensible knowledge?

Donar sighed and looked at Thor again. Those questions were secondary right now. „How do I get to God?“

„Matthew’s god?“

Donar shook his head. „No, _I_ am Matthew’s god. I want to get to the nameless one who threw him away. If I’ve been summoned to Hell, Matthew has to be in Heaven. I’m not leaving him there when he could be in Valhalla.“

„A Christian creature in Valhalla,“ Thor laughed. „And from what I’ve seen of your angel, he’d take to Valhalla like a duck to water.“

„More like fire to coal,“ Donar replied. „You’ll end up wondering how you ever had fun without him. But first I have to get to him.“

Thor put his horn into it’s stand on the table and sighed. „I could bring you to Midgard, I can show you Asgard and even take you to Utgard or Jötunheimr. In short, I can take you to every place Yggdrasil touches.“

„Which excludes other pantheons,“ Donar concluded.

Thor nodded. „But you, you’re part of two pantheons now, you can find the way.“

Donar gulped down the contents of his horn and raised it to the valkyrja that immediately stood beside him. „I don’t know how,“ he admitted and downed the horn again. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel the effects of mead yet, even though this was excellent mead. „Do you know someone who can help me figure it out? Do you think Heimdallr could help?“

„He might,“ Thor replied. „I will take you to Himinbjörg. But first you need to meet my father. He has been waiting for you.“

„Odin?“ Donar asked. Thor nodded. „Odin has been waiting for _me_?“

Thor stood and looked down at Donar. „Follow me, namesake.“

Donar nodded and put his horn onto its stand. He stood and nodded at Kvikbjorn. „It was so good to see you again, old friend.“

Kvikbjorn nodded and raised his horn at Donar. „Don’t make it centuries again, dearest friend,“ he called after Donar.

 

Donar stepped through the door into the hall that held the throne Hliđskialf. Under the silver ceiling, an old man sat on the throne, long white hair and beard plaited into a tail each. His right eye was empty and only the left eye looked at Donar.

The man was flanked by two ravens that croaked into his ear and two wolves lay at his feet. The wolves sat up and looked at the visitors.

„Odin?“ Donar asked.

The old man nodded. „Welcome to Valaskjálf, Donar Wælhrafnson.“

Donar bowed his head and mumbled, „I’m honoured to stand before you, Father of All.“

„I’m glad you finally made it to Valhalla,“ Odin replied. „Even without my valkyrjur’s help.“

„Please accept my apologies that I can’t stay,“ Donar said. He shifted on his feet and glanced at Thor next to him. The redheaded god grinned at Donar in amusement. Donar swallowed and looked at Odin again. „I need to find my angel and I’m afraid I have to take care of Midgard. I must have brought chaos over it.“

Odin lifted his hand and shook his head. „Say no more, raven of war. I didn’t welcome you as one of my einherjar.“ He moved his hand sideways and waved it. Another door opened to their left, smaller than the doors they Donar and Thor had used to enter the throne hall.

Three men came in, none of them taller than Donar’s waist and dressed in simple linen and leather aprons. They carried a big bearded axe that shimmered in the fire, reflecting the light and sparkling. Donar could even see the tiles of floor through the head.

„You’re the raven of war,“ Odin said. „Your following is in Midgard, fighting the Christian creatures alongside your skald. You are a new god and the slayer of gods. What you still need is a weapon.“

Donar stared at the dwarfs that had stopped before him, holding out the handle of the axe. It was bigger than any axe he had ever wielded. Runes were engraved in the luminous edge. Donar looked back at Odin and pointed at the axe.

„Those are Ivaldi and his two sons,“ Odin explained. „I asked them to take a sunstone and create your new weapon.“

„I…“ Donar looked back at the axe, flexing his fingers. Irregardless of its size, the axe did look perfectly balanced. The handle had just the right thickness to grab and hold onto. „I can’t accept this gift. I don’t feel worthy.“

„It’s an exchange,“ Odin replied. „You know how faith and belief works for gods. One person can keep a whole pantheon alive. Even through the centuries when other pantheons waned and disappeared, we still thrived. All I ask of you in return for this gift, continue believing until it is time for Ragnarök. I will call upon you when it’s time, raven of war.“

Donar nodded and reached out to seize the weapon. The dwarfs stepped back and watched Donar swaying it and testing the balance. „A new axe, made to kill gods,“ he whispered.

„ Do you have a name for your new weapon?“ Thor asked.

Donar looked at him and grinned. „Oh, yes. I name her Nýyrði.“

 

Some time later, Donar had bid goodbye to Kvikbjorn again. He had shown off his new axe and the warriors had gathered around him and praised the dwarfish craft of forging.

Now he was following Thor towards Himinbjörg, Nýyrði strapped on his back.

They stopped in front of a palace that lay on the outer wall of Asgard and Donar turned around to look at the monumental construction behind him. Odin’s palace Valaskjálf resided in the middle and stretched above sturdy stone buildings, growing broader before it ended. The town that surrounded the palace stretched out of sight, encircled by a high and broad wall. Every now and then, another grand and magnificent palace would be visible.

„I never would have thought that Asgard really is a huge fortress,“ Donar stated. He turned to look at the palace in front of him, it’s whiteness almost blinding. Next to the palace, a rainbow made its way into a landscape filled with hills, woods and fog.

„Do you want a tour through the halls and palaces?“ Thor asked. He pointed at a form that was barely visible in the fog at the horizon. „My palace, Bilskirnir, is out there. You’re welcome any day or night, namesake.“

„Thank you for your kind offer, but I mustn’t dally anymore. I must find Matthew.“

„Time is irrelevant in the realms of gods as you should know,“ Thor replied. „You’ll always be just on time.“ Nevertheless, he stepped forward to knock at the gate. The heavy oak doors swung inward, revealing a long hall lined by wooden pillars.

„The last time I was invited into a hall with great gates, I was stabbed by a cowardly demon,“ Donar stated.

„In Himinbjörg, no one will stab you,“ Thor replied. He pointed at another door at the end of the hall. „Behind this door Heimdallr resides. And if you thought Valhalla’s mead was sweet, wait until you tried the Himinbjörg mead.“

Donar shook his head and laughed as he followed Thor through the hall. „You really are just a bunch of drunkards, are you?“

Thor grinned at him. „Every people the gods they deserve.“

„You and Odin said I’ve got a skald,“ Donar said.

„He’s fighting on Earth, using your hammer,“ Thor replied. „Befitting a carpenter, don’t you think?“

„A carpenter?“ Donar repeated. He grinned. So Gareth was not only alive, but kicking as well. „Has he grown into a man at last? What about that following Odin mentioned? He didn’t mean Matthew, did he?“

Thor shook his head. „No. But isn’t there an old legend even your people didn’t believe in anymore?“

Donar stopped and frowned at his namesake. „The stone trolls?“

„Yes,“ Thor confirmed. „They woke.“

Donar blinked and the laughed. This whole scenario was just hilarious. Here he was in Asgard, treated as an equal by the gods he always had prayed to, preparing to meet the god that millions believed in and what did his following consist of?

„My, aren’t I just a ragtag god? One seraph, one carpenter and horde of stone trolls!“

„Just what you need to conquer the world,“ Thor replied and pushed open the door to Heimdallr’s throne hall.

„But will it be enough to slay an almighty god?“ Donar sighed. He followed Thor into the throne hall and stopped, squinting. He raised his hand to his eyes, shielding them from the blinding light.

„Finally the raven of war turns up,“ a strong and deep voice greeted them. Donar blinked through his fingers, forcing his eyes open to get accustomed to the light. Eventually, he could make out a hall lined with marmoreal pillars. In the middle stood a throne made of white marble and sitting on was a man dressed in white leather and fur. His skin was even paler than Matthew’s skin, white hair falling loose and two ram horns made gold curled backwards.

Donar took a few steps towards the god and dipped his head. „Heimdallr, I suppose?“

„You’re right so,“ the god answered and stood from his throne. He smiled, showing his golden teeth. „I know why you’re here, Donar Wælhrafnson.“

„Can you help me?“

„I can open the gates to Bifröst for you,“ Heimdallr replied. „The rest of the path is your own responsibility.“

„How?“ Donar asked. „I have no idea how to get to the nameless god.“

„You’re a part of both pantheons,“ Heimdallr said. He turned and waved at Donar and Thor to follow him. „If you can’t find the path, no one can.“ He walked through a white door at the side of the hall and stopped in front of a staircase. An ivory gate was closed before the staircase.

Donar stopped next to Heimdallr and stretched. Behind the staircase, he could make out a bright rainbow that vanished into the fog surrounding Asgard. „Bifröst,“ Donar whispered.

Thor nodded and put an arm around Donar’s shoulder. „It looks quite impressive, considering it’s a rainbow.“

„It does,“ Donar replied and put a hand against the bars of the gate. He turned his had to look at Heimdallr. „I guess I just have to believe in finding the path?“

Heimdallr dipped his head and pushed his palms against the gates. The gates slid open silently. „You should be able to hear your raven once you’re out of Asgard,“ Heimdallr replied.

Donar sighed and nodded. He closed his eyes and took a few steps forward. He felt wind tearing at his leather skirt and skin. Shivering, he opened his eyes and turned back to Heimdallr and Thor. „Thank you for your help.“

Heimdallr nodded in greeting as Thor grinned. „You better be victorious, else we’ll be ashamed.“

Donar saluted and grinned back. „I won’t let a nameless god steal what’s mine.“

He turned around and took a deep breath before taking the first step onto the Bifröst itself. He looked down. The outer walls of Asgard were visible through a filter of red, yellow, green and blue. Donar bobbed on his feet to test the bridge. It didn’t even wobble. He jumped a few times, still no seesawing.

Laughter was heard from behind him, but Donar ignored the two gods behind him and started walking further onto the bridge. He walked up the ascending slope and rubbed his hands over his arms. The wind grew stronger the further Donar walked and he stopped at what seemed to be the highest point of Bifröst.

Donar pulled the axe from its holder and sat down, closing his eyes. He rested Nýyrði in his lap and laid his hands on her handle. He hummed, feeling the tattoos on his arms, legs and sides warming.

He sat for while, trying to hear something that wasn’t the dripping of mist from leaves or the occasional cry of a bird. Eventually, he sighed and opened his eyes again to look into the grey sky.

„Just where are you?“ he whispered.

Still, only silence surrounded Donar. He grunted and stood, his axe loosely in held in his hand. He was about to walk back to Himinbjörg when he felt something piercing into his heart. He pressed his free hand against his left chest and bent forward as the pain spread through his body. Eventually, it concentrated on his back, burning hotter than any fire Matthew had subjected him to.

Ramming Nýyrði against Bifröst, he forced himself to look into the sky again. The burning pain from his back spread to the tattoos until he was surrounded in a red glow.

Donar grinned and tightened his hands around Nýyrði.

„Got you.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And friendly reminder, interview thingy. Won’t happen if I don’t get questions. ;)


	24. Dein ist der jüngste Tag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a Seraph burns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the last chapter. Well, kinda. There’s still an epilogue you can look forward to. ;)
> 
> I think I’ll post that on Monday the 8th. So if you want to get questions for interview thingy in, this is your deadline. ;)
> 
> This chapter’s title is taken from the Subway to Sally song Falscher Heiland (False Redeemer) and means „Your’s is Judgment Day“.
> 
> As always, beta'd by me Anita. :D

_Matthew! Stop!_

Matthew froze. _His_ voice.

He shivered and stared down at his hands. For so long, he had longed to hear His voice again, to hear his own name acknowledged once more by the one who had created him.

Matthew shook his head. Now that he had heard his name spoken by Him, he realised he didn’t long for this voice any more. He wanted it to cease and to hear a different voice. Matthew flexed his fingers, feeling the pain of the burn marks and stains of his own blood still visible.

Slowly, Matthew stood and turned his back towards the voice. He was still alive. So Donar had to be alive as well. Wherever that bloody Viking was, he was alive.

Matthew smiled and opened the eyes in his wings, standing straight. Around him, he saw heaps of grey ashes and once white pillars were black with burn marks. The clouds above him were gone, revealing a sky that was tainted in crimson.

He had not only wreaked havoc in the Great Hall, he had also burnt the seraphim and most likely Raphael as well.

Matthew stretched his wings, still refusing to look behind him. This brief moment of victory was his and he wouldn’t allow anyone to spoil his basking in it. He would have to face the consequences soon enough.

But instead of a voice contorted in wrath, a gentle whisper was heard.

_Turn around, my child, turn back to me and I'll welcome you home._

Matthew clenched his jaw and shook his head. „No,“ he retorted. „You are not home. You never will be. I'm still alive and so is he. I believe in him. You are not my god. I don't believe in you and you don't deserve my love.“

_Matthew, you‘re an angel. You know angels are created for one purpose solely._

Matthew laughed. How could he ever have followed someone this pathetic? Someone who would create a whole royal household that would worship him instead of pulling them in by deeds and actions was no one to follow.

„I know,“ he answered. „But I won‘t give my unconditional love and adoration to someone who won‘t return it or who punishes someone who dares to care for more than one person.“

_And yet you willingly give it to a Barbarian?_

Matthew gnashed his teeth together until his jaw hurt.

_You used to be such a pure and innocent seraph._

„I cared for someone before.“

_I couldn‘t allow this. I made you to be the purest of all. Your eyes were meant to look at me and at no one else._

The voice paused, but Matthew refused to answer.

_I thought being tied to a Viking would cause you to return to me. To realise what your purpose was. But instead…_

„Instead I turned to him,“ Matthew stated. „Instead my eyes were locked on him from the day you bound our souls. I always followed him, it was only a matter of time I made him a god.“

_I did not expect you to embrace their Barbarian ways. Nor did I count on Dominic to claim you as his._

„I thought you‘re omniscient,“ Matthew snorted. „Wasn‘t that your great plan all the time? Punishing me even after this one year was over?“

Silence filled the Great Hall for a while. Matthew looked down at his hands. He was wasting his time here. Instead of talking to a past he wanted destroyed, he should figure out how to find Donar.

_Matthew, turn around, my child._

„So you can blind all of my eyes?“

_I know you‘re curious. I‘m sorry I didn‘t notice you looking all those years ago. Turn back to me._

„Nevermind, I can bridle my curiosity now,“ Matthew retorted. He laughed and started walking towards the gate. He would burn his hands even more when trying to open those wretched gates, but getting out of this hall was more important than his skin.

_Don’t you dare leave me like this._

„You know, Lucifer always was the better tempter. I’m not surprised he’s got a whole world of followers. Maybe you should ask him for a lesson in seduction.“

_**HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THIS?** _

White light surrounded Matthew. He pressed his eyes closed, but even through the feathers, the light blinded him. His wings felt as if they were made of pain. Matthew screamed and fell to his knees.

He stared at the floor, barely visible in the light and screamed. He didn’t even know if his wings still existed or were burning or even melting from the heat. His heart beat faster and faster until Matthew was sure it must have stopped.

His head connected with the floor, hot tiles adding to the pain he was in. Matthew whimpered Donar’s name. He pushed himself onto his knees and managed to crawl a few metres before he felt another surge of blazing heat.

_**YOU WILL NOT BETRAY ME FURTHER!** _

Matthew wailed and curled up on the floor. „Not yours,“ he whimpered. He drew a deep breath and covered his head with his arms. „I hate you!“ he shouted. „I want you to cease.“

„And how could I deny you such a wish?“

Matthew shivered and forced himself to look up. He saw two legs wrapped up in boots and a dark leather skirt. He noticed shifting and movement and a hand stroked through Matthew’s hair.

„You’re here,“ Matthew whispered.

„Of course,“ Donar replied. „You called for me.“

Matthew’s lips twitched into a smile. He felt better. His wings still hurt and all the eyes in them were blind. The pain was subsiding, though.

_**How could YOU come here?** _

„Heimdallr kindly allowed me to use Bifröst,“ Donar replied. „It’s good, having more than one god.“

_**I WILL NOT ALLOW TALK OF PAGAN GODS IN MY HALLS!** _

Matthew didn’t wait until the scream was finished. He pushed himself higher and against Donar, wrapping his wings around the Viking. The fire that surrounded him was worse than the earlier attacks. This time, he knew for sure that his wings were alight. The stench of feathers burning assaulted his nose and the bones in his wings were screaming with agony.

His own voice rang in his ears, shrill and high-pitched until it was nothing more than a hoarse croak. He stumbled and collided with Donar, his consciousness slipping into a woolly haze.

Matthew felt cold hands on his back, soothing the fire in his bones as they sank to the ground. He felt lips brushing against his left ear, a voice whispering through the haziness in his head.

„Do you believe in me?“

„Yes,“ Matthew whispered.

„Do you believe I can win?“

Matthew forced himself to look up at Donar, the face just a blur of flesh and blond. He nodded once before his head flopped forwards and against Donar’s shoulder. „Yes,“ he replied.

„I won’t let you down,“ Donar replied. One hand stroked though Matthew’s hair, while the other guided Matthew to sink further onto the tiles. „Rest for a while,“ Donar whispered into Matthew’s ear. „I’ll be with you again in a moment.“

Matthew didn’t reply, but curled into a ball. He felt the bones of his featherless wings scratching against his skin.

Donar’s steps moved around Matthew, as sure and calm as they always had been while laughter filled the Great Hall. Matthew gritted his teeth. That laughter would stop now.

_**Your pagan gods have long since been forgotten. How do you think you could possibly stand a chance?** _

Donar’s steps stopped and Matthew could hear him laugh. „Yes, my pagan gods that only I believe in anymore. But do you know what else we Vikings believed in?“

_**What?** _

„In the possibility of a god’s death,“ Donar answered lightly. „Met with your little sheep, you might be omnipotent and invincible. But met with a Viking, you’re just as mortal as any human.“

_**You’d risk killing Matthew as well?** _

„I wouldn’t. We’d never truly risk the other’s death,“ Donar stated. Matthew heard him walking again. He shifted, whimpering when the movement made his wing bones drag over the floor. He squinted at the Viking who stood with his back to Matthew.

„He’s not your angel any longer,“ Donar said as he looked around in the Great Hall. „Burnt your Great Hall and seraphim, did he? And yet you still think he’s one of yours? Deluded fool.“

A deep scream reverberated through the room. Matthew felt the bones in his ears vibrating with the wrath held in that scream. He whined and wanted to wrap his wings around himself. Instead of the soft safety of his feathers, all he felt was the hard scratch of bare bones.

A squelching sound was heard and the scream stopped, turning into gurgling. Even that soft gurgling stopped after another squelching sound, something crunched and then a thud sounded.

Silence spread and then footsteps approached Matthew. They stopped next to the seraph and a moment later, a hand came to rest on his back.

„I know what you did when you saved me,“ Donar whispered.

He reached beneath Matthew’s body and lifted the seraph up, shifting him until Matthew was cradled in his arms, what remained of Matthew’s wings hanging down.

Matthew forced himself to look up at Donar’s face. He still didn’t want to talk about it. He swallowed.

„I swear, I‘ll never let you down,“ Donar stated while walking towards the gates of the Great Hall. Grumbling and droning was heard from behind, but Matthew ignored the noise. _He_ was dead, so of course everything connected to Him would disappear now.

Matthew closed his eyes and rested them against Donar’s shoulder. The pain in his body was diminishing with each step Donar took. Behind them, the noises grew in volume as if pillars collapsed and breaking and crumbling into dust.

Then silence surrounded them and Matthew felt brilliant light even through his closed eyelids.

„Open your eyes, Matthew.“

Matthew blinked and spread his wings. Soft feathers stroked along his back and his surroundings were clearly visible. Matthew blinked again. He didn’t pay attention to the transparent rainbow they stood on, nor did he pay attention to the mist-covered woodland beneath them.

Matthew glanced at the eye that sat the lowest on his premiers and blinked again. His vision was complete again, no blind spot to obscure part of it.

Donar let him slide from his arms and Matthew stood on the rainbow bridge. He looked back down at his formerly blind eye. It was as blue as his other eyes.

„I don‘t mind you looking at me,“ Donar stated.

Matthew grinned and stretched his wings. It felt good to be able to spread out again. It also felt good to feel the chill air and soft breeze against his naked skin again. He felt good.

Matthew looked at Donar, only now noticing the luminous axe on the Viking’s belt. „New axe?“

Donar nodded and unplugged it. „Yes. I named her Nýyrði.“ He let it swish through the air and lifted it higher, letting the sparse light twinkle on its blade. „You like her?“

„Good name,“ Matthew replied. He craned his neck and spotted a fortress behind them, a heavy wall shielding it from the outside world. „Asgard?“

Donar nodded and turned while attaching Nýyrði to his belt. „Let’s go home.“

They walked towards Asgard in silence. Matthew kept blinking. After centuries spent with a blind eye, being able to use it again confused him. He looked down at his hands. Of course, they were healed again.

Matthew glanced sideways at the man walking next to him, dressed in nothing but a dark leather skirt and boots, a big crystal axe on the belt. So, this was his new god.

Matthew smiled. Acknowledging to himself that he belonged to the man felt freeing. Maybe he wouldn’t ever publicly acknowledge his god, and with that his love, but both of them knew. And that was enough.

„You sang for me,“ Donar spoke after a while.

Matthew nodded. „I did.“

„You saved me.“

Matthew chuckled. „So did you. I guess we’re even now.“

Donar grinned at him and reached out to stroke through Matthew’s feathers.

Matthew shivered and moaned softly. He looked up into the sky. „Did you see Him?“

„Yes,“ Donar replied. „Do you want to know what He looked like?“

Matthew hummed. Did he? After a while, he shook his head. „I’d rather forget Him altogether. Let’s go home and see how our little carpenter is doing.“


	25. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there’s a New Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. Celestial Charts is over. *sniffles* I managed to actually finish another long story. Yay. Or have I?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this mad tale about Vikings, Seraphs, Angels, Demons and everything in between. I loved them dearly, still do. But it’s time to let these children of mine go and explore the ruins and forests of this world on their own while I tend to new stories. Be excited. ;)
> 
> Once again, beta'd by my dear Anita. :)

Matthew stood at the sea and looked out at the vastness. The sky was unusually blue, tinting the sea in vibrant aquamarine. The chill water moved to encircle his feet before retreating. It returned again a few minutes later.

The wind blew from the sea and Matthew spread his wings, feeling the onslaught of the wind almost lifting him off his feet. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath through his nose. He could smell the salt. He could even taste it on his tongue.

It held promises that he had thought forgotten. Promises of a whole world lying ahead of him, waiting to be discovered. He smiled and opened his eyes again, a plethora of blue looking out into the blue vastness.

Matthew took two steps further into the water and lay down, closing his eyes. He felt the water move around him, the waves coming onto land reaching up to his chest, covering the tips of his wings. The salt would taint and annoy him as soon as the water had dried, but that was something Donar could worry about Matthew decided.

After a while, footsteps moved through the sand. It wasn’t the firm gait that Donar used, but cautious steps. They stopped next to Matthew and a shadow fell over Matthew’s face.

The angel blinked and turned his head to look at Gareth. The human was sitting next to him, looking out at the sea.

„Can I die?“ Gareth asked after a while.

„Yes,“ Matthew replied. „It’s harder for you to die, but you’re still not immortal. Getting shot or getting your head chopped off would be fatal for you.“

Gareth nodded and looked down at Matthew. „What about old age, can that kill me?“

Matthew shrugged. „Maybe one day, but that’s far in the future.“

Gareth nodded and looked back at the sea. He hummed and picked a shell from the beach. He looked at it for a moment before tossing it back into the waves. „I think I'd like to wander. See the world. Garcia will be coming with me.“

„Don't forget to spread the word,“ Matthew replied and grinned. „You're a skald now.“

„Donar said he didn't want fame or having his name spread.“

Matthew lifted an eyebrow at Gareth. „When did he say such nonsense?

„At the police station when talking Adkison into letting us hunt that wendigo.“

Matthew laughed and shook his head. „He lied. He's a Viking. Vikings live for fame. Donar is no exception to that. He just learned to adapt.“

„So, I’m some kind of prophet now,“ Gareth hummed. He fell onto his back and turned his head towards Matthew. „Quite the career, isn’t it?“

„You can still please your god’s angel,“ Matthew purred and winked.

Gareth sighed and looked at the sky, squinting at the brightness. „I guess I’m happy about you still showing interest in me.“

„Why shouldn’t I be interested in our skald?“ Matthew purred.

„You didn’t seem the type for long term interests,“ Gareth replied. He rolled around and shifted closer to Matthew. He straddled Matthew, taking care not to touch the wings.

Matthew just lay and waited, smirking and an eyebrow raised. Gareth smiled and leant down, brushing his lips against Matthew’s and moving over the cheek until he could whisper into Matthew’s ear. „I’ll miss you while I’m gone.“

„Do you love me?“

„I think so,“ Gareth replied and rested his head on Matthew’s shoulder. „Not in the way of a lover, but…“ He shrugged. „I can’t explain, but I think it’s love of some kind.“

Matthew moved his head to nibble at Gareth's ear. „That's good enough for me,“ he whispered.

 

„Did our little skald bid goodbye to you?“

Matthew turned his head towards the Viking behind him. Frónband was just busy rigging the sail of their knarr. Giggling, Matthew climbed further onto the bow and spread his wings into the wind.

„He did,“ Matthew replied and winked.

Donar smirked and climbed after Matthew. He put his arms around Matthew’s chest, fingers ghosting over smooth skin and nipples while teeth nipped at Matthew’s earlobe.

„Matthew, are you happy?“ Donar whispered, barely audible over the raging of the sea.

Matthew opened the eyes in his wings, taking in his surroundings before whispering his answer.

„Yes.“


	26. Illustration - The Seraph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I madeth illustrations on my phone. I made just as well add them now. ;)

This one is one of the first things I drew on my precious Note 2 yeeaaars ago. The lines are still a bit wonky. :P The song used in the background is "Heaven is of Honey" by Einstürzende Neubauten.

This one, I drew later, most likely on the Note 3 that my employers gave me. (If you wonder, I'm now on the Note Edge and I just love that bend screen on the side. ;) )


	27. Illustration — The Viking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another illustration

Another illustration I made early in the story already with throughts of the finale and Donar's new tattoos and axe. :D  
Still wonky linework because getting used to drawing on the phone with sketchbook.

This song is the Viking Song from Horrible Histories, also referred to as literally. Youtube it. It's most fun. ;)


	28. Illustration — The Carpenter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another illustration

A bit newer than the other drawings, showing Gareth rocking the hammer.

The song in the background is "Entropy" by Jason Webley.


End file.
